Castaway
by Seamagik
Summary: A rash Conclave decision will leave Max and Alec miles away from the ordinary and even further from hope. Inspired by the Blue Lagoon. MA all the way. You can't say I didn't warn you.
1. Chapter 1: Wrecked

I make no bones about this; this fic is totally a guily pleasure. The Blue Lagoon was on TV the other day and I did an O-ho-ho, a la Peppy Le Pew style. That being said, forgive me. :3

This chapter contains spoilers for Hello, Goodbye. But come on, if you're a M/A shipper, I'm not spoilin' anything. Set about a month or so after F.N. Standard disclaimers (all hail Fox and James Cameron) apply. If you think this chapter moves fast, it's because it's the set up for the scene. The real meat begins next chapter.

* * *

Castaway

Chapter One: Wrecked

* * *

At what point does a good day go bad? At what moment does the happiness cease to be enough to get you through?

If the answer involved Alec in any way, it probably wouldn't be too far from the truth.

Max had no problem with Alec per se. Not including, of course, his resemblance to a brother she'd killed, his part in a certain virus of the kill-my-not-like-that-boyfriend variety, and his ability to attract trouble and bullets as if a shiny red target was perpetually stapled to his ass. Nope, other than those big, glaring details, Alec was actually a pretty likeable guy.

Just not right now.

"So let me get this straight." His voice was somewhere between strangled and dangerous, having given up on mutinous and disgusted only moments ago. He squeezed his fingers tighter against the bridge of his nose, as if doing so would somehow make her statement reasonable. "After all the platitudes about making a stand, fighting for a cause… You're just going to up and leave."

"It's not even like that." Max's voice was soft, reasonable.

Alec rolled his eyes, throwing his hands in the air. "So tell me what it is like, Max! An extended vacation?"

Her eyes narrowed. "What it's like, _Monty Cora_, is me going to get the cure, that I could have had months ago if it hadn't been for your sorry ass getting caught by White."

"Hey," he protested, unable to suppress the smirk that crept on to his face. It was easier to smirk than it was to show his hurt. "I didn't force you into anything. You could have let my brain explode."

Max stared at him a moment. Did he really think she was that heartless? Probably. Nevertheless… "Yeah, I could have, but I didn't. I helped you out. Now I'm asking you to help me out."

"Max," Alec frowned, once again all seriousness, "I'm not going to take over Terminal City so you can cruise around New Zealand. In case you haven't noticed, we're kinda in a tight situation, here."

As if she needed reminding.

"Alec," Max sighed, sinking back into her worn chair, "If there's a chance I could find this Doctor guy Logan was talking about, I'm gonnna take it."

Alec stared hard at her. She knew she wasn't going to like what he said next. The tightening around his eyes gave it away. "Because having sex with a guy you couldn't touch even when you _didn't_ have a virus is sooo much more important than all these people you pledged to lead?"

She leapt from the chair as if it were on fire, leaning forward over her desk, her eyes blazing. "It's not even about that, so don't even start with me! Logan can't leave TC. End of story." She held up a hand to stall his protest- "White knows about him, it's not safe out there."

Alec had to give her that. As long as she didn't throw in that bullshit about Logan being such a great hacker and good PR, he could stomach keeping old Logey boy around. Emphasis on the old part. He smirked.

"And since he's staying here," she continued, recapturing his attention. "It'd be kinda nice to not have to worry about him dropping dead any time soon."

"Send another X-5."

She fixed him with a serious frown. "This is my problem, Alec. I'm not sending someone else to do my dirty work."

His crooked smile almost lit up the room. "What, thinkin' you might have to rough Logan's Miracle Doctor up a bit?"

She tried hard to suppress the smile that threatened to ruin her serious mood. In the end she let it. Fighting with him took too much energy. And let's face it; her acidic words never fazed him. He actually seemed to kind of enjoy their fighting. Masochist. "There is that. Also, c'mon, Mole would have a field day with that one."

True, true. Mole had made his feelings about "Ordinaries" pretty clear over the last month.

Max scowled. Try as she might, she couldn't get the transhuman to show Logan any semblance of respect. Most of the transgenics didn't have a problem with Eyes Only, actually respected him for helping them out, but the few sticks in the mud that couldn't stomach ordinaries would raise hell if they learned she sent out one of "their kind" to further her relationship. Not that the cure was about that. Nope. Not at all.

"Does Logan know we're not together?" Alec asked suspiciously, interrupting her musings. He'd feel pretty dumb if Wonder Legs did know. After all, that elaborate scheme he'd pulled off yesterday, involving his hand and her ass, had nearly caused him to be castrated. He'd hate if he'd risked his future children for nothing.

"No," She ground out, as if she too were remembering his ingenious approach to warning Logan off. He took a protective step behind the desk, just in case. She must have known what he was thinking, because it was her turn to smirk.

Alec turned thoughtful and realizing that his future progeny were no longer in danger, he came around to perch next to her on the desk. "So he knows we're together, and yet still pushin' for that cure, eh?"

She turned and sat next to him, shrugging. "Yeah. So?"

He glanced sideways at her, his half smile making his eyes gleam. "Just never pegged him for the type to steal another guy's girl, is all."

She laughed, rolling her eyes. "Don't worry, Hot Boy." she teased, using O.C.'s moniker, bumping him playfully with her shoulder, "You know you're the only man for me."

"Ahem."

She shot up from her desk, turning to stare at the door with wide eyes. "Logan!"

Alec only barely contained his glee. Man, it was just too easy. "Logan, my man! We were just talking about you!"

Logan arched one eyebrow. "Yeah, I caught that."

Oooo. Ouch. Alec spared a glance at Max's stricken face. He slung an arm over her shoulder, leaning in to murmur in her ear. "Maaaax," he singsonged, "you look like a fii-iiish."

For Logan, it was almost painful to watch. Alec's arm draped across her shoulder, her body relaxing as she turned to look up at him, almost affectionately… It was so much like the day he'd caught them coming out of her apartment, the same day she'd admitted that she had left him on his deathbed to be with that… that… _sociopath_. Well, the day after he'd been on his deathbed, if you wanted to get technical. But any way you slice it, Logan, the good guy, was the one left hangin' and Alec, the screw up, was the one that'd got the girl. It just wasn't _fair_. It wasn't... right.

More painful than any of that, though, was watching him _touch_ her. Logan almost wanted to weep in happiness when Max shrugged out of Alec's half embrace.

"What's up, Logan?" She asked, all business, as she edged away from everyone's favorite smart Alec.

"Got the tickets you needed. And the passports." Logan couldn't bring himself to glare at Alec. Couldn't even bring himself to look at the younger man.

"Wait," Alec glanced at Max. "Tickets? Passports? As in more than one? Plural?"

Max turned to him, shooting him a look that even a blind person would interpret as '_duh_.' "You didn't let me get to that part. When I asked for your help, I didn't mean that I wanted you to take over TC." Yeah, right, as if she'd ever do that. Place'd be sporting strip joints by the time she got back.

"Oh," Alec seemed dumbfounded for a moment, before his usual persona, i.e. Mr. Annoy-the-hell-outta-Max, reasserted itself. "That doesn't mean that I don't stand by my argument. You can't just leave, Max. You know what people around here will think?"

Max was only too sure what they would think. That she was a 09-er, a traitor. That she couldn't stick anything out. "Alec," she pleaded, "I've got to do this. I can't worry about what everyone else thinks right now. The chain of command is rock solid, so it's not like I'm leaving TC leaderless. I need someone to watch my back-"

She sent a level gaze at Logan before he could open his mouth to protest. "Someone that I won't accidentally smack in my sleep and kill."

Logan wanted to bring up the fact that she had shark DNA and only very rarely slept… but the very real danger of touching, thousands of miles from a lifesaving transgenic transfusion, kept his mouth firmly closed. Instead, he nodded, curtly, miserably, but he nodded just the same.

"For the record," Alec piped up. "I think this is a really bad idea."

He left it unsaid that he would go with her. That part was moot. As much as Logan didn't like to admit it, Alec always had Max's back. And then Logan winced, remembering yesterday's very territorial display, involving Alec's hand and Max's backside. Bad analogy. He glanced up in time to catch Alec's wicked grin, as if the transgenic knew exactly what he was thinking.

Watching Alec smirk superiorly at Logan's jealousy, Max knew that this was the moment when her good day, cure and future happiness aside, just couldn't be good anymore.

She _had_ to tell Logan the truth.

* * *

"You told Logan the truth?!"

Max shrugged, watching Seattle grow ever smaller from the window of the private aircraft. "Yeah, so?"

"Max," he leaned over her, snapping the window shade shut, forcing her to look at him. "Do you not realize I risked life and limb two short days ago just to warn him off?"

Her eyes narrowed, but her voice remained sugary sweet. "If you're bringing up how you shoved your pervy hand down the back of my pants, here's a tip... Don't." All sweetness dropped from her voice as her face tightened into a glare. "Neither your life nor your limb is safe, considering the fact I still might rip off your arm and beat you to death with it for even _thinking_ about touching my ass."

He pouted, pushing himself back into his seat unhappily. "Jeez, try to do a friend one little favor…"

She said nothing, merely turning back to the window and pushing open the shade once more. Couldn't even see Seattle anymore…

"Besides, if anything, we all know that you're the one who wants to touch-"

"Don't even finish that sentence." Her voice was deceptively mild.

"Lighten up, Max. I'm just saying, if anyone has a fascination with anyone else's ass around here-"

"I _will_ kill you."

The flight from the private airfield in Seattle to the deserted runway in Los Angeles was possibly the longest two and a half hours of her life. And that was saying a lot, considering everything she'd been through.

An entire plane to themselves, courtesy of an Eyes Only contact, and he'd just _had_ to sit next to her, chattering incessantly the whole time. Boy may be easy on the eyes (or so they say) but Manticore could have at least programmed an off switch in there somewhere. Boy could talk the ear off a brick wall.

For the most part, she'd ignored him, replaying her conversation with Logan over and over again in her mind.

"_We… we were never together." … The sheer relief and happiness on his face as she came clean… "But why?"… the searching looks, the pained expression… "I had to push you away. I didn't think we'd ever find the cure and-"… the silent understanding, the forgiveness she had no right to ask of him… the gloved hand coming up to cup her cheek. "We'll have the cure, soon."_

Alec's whistle and nod at the car waiting for them had her crashing back to reality. Hefting her duffel over her shoulder, she moved quickly across the tarmac, Alec close on her heels.

The ship left port at exactly 2:30 p.m. And billionaire oil heirs Randy and Carrie Travis were safely aboard. Sure, they looked nothing like each other, the only trait they shared being devastatingly good looks, but Max refused to pretend to be his wife. It'd never fly; she enjoyed hitting him upside the head too much. Alec would have been put off by that, but he was too busy focusing on less important details.

"I mean, come on! Randy? _Randy_? He did it on purpose, Max. He was making a statement."

She smirked, focusing on pulling a shirt from her bag to toss in the bureau. "Oh really?"

He threw up his hands in exasperation, "I mean, he's got issues with me, I get that. But seriously. _Randy_? Why not just call me Slutty Travis? Or Wants-a-Lay Travis. Or-"

She turned to him, putting up a hand to stall him. "Okay, before you get graphic, let's get one thing straight." When she was sure she had his complete attention, she smirked. "I'm the one who chose Randy."

He paused. She could almost see his thoughts turn inwards. He rolled his shoulders, pursing his lips in thought, before focusing on her, tongue in check and wickedness in his eyes. "Well, you do know me pretty well-"

She scoffed, turning to stuff another shirt into the drawer that they would be using for the next 24 days. It would have been preferable to fly straight to Sydney, Australia, and then on to New Zealand, but their forged documents wouldn't stand up to the scrutiny it took to fly out of the U.S. these days. Cruise liners, however; a little more lax about these things. Especially since only the filthy rich could afford to go on a cruise and the filthy rich, both pre- and post-pulse world, could get away with a lot more than any old average joe. So, while spending more time with Alec was like opting for an unnecessary root canal, it was also the only way they wouldn't have their pictures flashed across government databases, where any official, Ames White included, could see them.

Post-pulse world sucked.

Whistling jauntily, Alec pulled the shirt over his head, moving towards the bathroom and a much needed shower. A little over three weeks on a private cruise, every whim satisfied by crewmembers paid to please him, every need catered to by women desperate to snag a handsome billionaire… To think, if the Pulse hadn't happened, they would have _flown_ to New Zealand.

Post-pulse world rocked.

* * *

Ames White had never been a patient man. In fact, he was frequently reprimanded by those who believed themselves his superiors for his rash actions. The loss of his son had only served to make him more impatient. For this, though… For this, he could wait.

"Continue to monitor the room. Any mention of my son, you call me immediately. Understand?"

The men under his command exchanged glances, but nodded just the same. White's obsession with recovering his son was becoming a hindrance the Conclave wouldn't tolerate for much longer. Now that the truth of 452's DNA was coming to light, their desire was to terminate, not subjugate.

If White wouldn't take action, the Conclave would.

* * *

Alec was a very discriminating man.

Okay, not really. Hot and willing was about all it took.

But he wasn't stupid. Cruise liners might seem big, but really, when it came down to it, not so much. Which was why, as of yet, he hadn't picked a lucky lady to grace with a midnight rendezvous. If the infamous Little Suki and Lorraina incident had taught him anything, it was that small spaces and multiple women didn't mix… No… wait… he couldn't help the grin that came with that particular mental image.

"I don't even wanna know what's goin' on in that sick, little mind of yours." Max commented, turning on the complimentary laptop (not so complimentary that it wasn't bolted to the desk) for her morning ritual, i.e. sickening webcam feed to a certain TC inhabitant involving long, longing glances, soft sighs, and all manner of other things that made Alec feel like taking a running dive off the side of the ship.

"Don't knock it till you try it, sister." He grinned.

She turned to face him. "First of all, I am _not_ your sister. Secondly, considering whatever you're thinking probably involves a threesome, I'm gonna go ahead and say shut the hell up."

He covered his very real surprise with a hand that came up to his chest in mocking exaggeration. "Maxie! You know me so well!"

"Don't call me that," She muttered, turning back to the computer.

His hand dropped and he shook his head at her turned back. "Seriously, it wouldn't hurt you to lighten up, Max. We've been on the ship a week already and you've barely come out of the room. There's still two more weeks to make the most of! Nothing holding us back, tying us down…"

She didn't turn to face him. "If you're trying to get me to sleep with you-"

"Not everything is about sex, Max." He groaned. "Believe it or not, getting in your pants isn't really high on my list of priorities."

Pause.

"Plus, I've already been in your pants. Remember?" Waggle of eyebrows aaaaand cue angry Max.

"Which I still may kill you for," she huffed. "So don't push it."

She still wouldn't turn to face him. It's not like she'd even started her precious video feed, didn't she at least have the decency to face him? ...And why was this bothering him so much, again?

"Come on, Max, at least come up on deck with me later. Little sunshine, a little swimming. It'll be fun."

"We're not here for fun." She ground out, staring intently at the screen. Come on, stupid computer. Pick up the satellite signal already.

He rolled his eyes. She could be such a stick in the mud. "Yeah, yeah, the end result, all business, I get it. But heellooo!" He threw his hands up for emphasis, even though she had yet to look at him. "We're on a cruise! Beautiful people, smiling faces, good food, warm sun! Would it hurt to let loose for a little while?"

She finally turned to face him, fixing him with a shining smile. His guard was instantly up and his entire body tensed in wait for the blow. She cocked her head, smile never dimming, her tone of voice portraying all the disgust her face didn't show. "Well, we can't all be sociopathic sluts like you, Alec." A sickening scrunch of the face that he wanted to punch off of her and she was once again turned towards the computer screen, just as the connection took.

His eyes narrowed. "Yeah… Because heaven forbid the Ice Queen thaw enough to let a mere mortal touch her." he spat, as Logan's face filled the screen.

"_Excuse_ you?!" She whirled in her seat, but he'd already stormed out of the room.

Logan's shocked question had her turning dumbfounded back to the computer. "Oookay... What was all that about?"

* * *

"What the hell was that about?" She hissed when he shambled in the next day, wearing the previous day's clothes and a self-satisfied smirk.

"What can I say, Max." The smirk never left his face, but his eyes were ice cold. "You've got me pegged. Happy-go-lucky, sociopathic, slut Alec, that's me. Just needed to unwind, is all." He stretched towards the ceiling, the exaggerated movements painting pictures in her mind she wasn't quite comfortable with.

"Well, I'd say congrats, but it looks like you're patting yourself on the back enough for both of us. Now, you wanna tell me what got your panties in a twist yesterday?"

He fixed her with a blank stare. When he said nothing, she sighed, her eyes rolling. "I don't read minds, Alec. Kinda need you to work with me here."

The silence stretched into an uncomfortable length, and she had to resist fidgeting on the bed where she sat. Finally, after what felt like an eternity, his shoulders rolled and as if by magic her seemingly carefree Alec was back with a grin.

"Don't you have a video love fest you need to see too? I'm kinda tired." He glanced pointedly at the bed she was sitting on. His bed. So Max did what she usually did when she couldn't figure Alec out. She retreated.

Her voice woke him from the comfortable dream of a warm embrace and hair that was too long and too dark to belong to the type of woman he usually went for. That being the case, he was actually glad she did wake him.

"Was it the sociopath comment?" She asked.

He glanced at the clock. 1:30 pm. Wha-

"Yesterday." She explained, in response to his befuddled expression. "Did you get mad because I called you names?"

He sat up, scrubbing his bleary face with his hands. "God, Max, were you sitting here this whole time watching me sleep?"

She reared away from him in disgust. "Hell no! I talked to Logan, got some breakfast…"

His hands dropped from his face and he leveled her with a knowing gaze. "Okay, fine. Did you _obsess_ about this the whole time I was asleep?"

Her silence was really the only answer he needed. He rubbed tired eyes, leaning into the headboard. "Can we just drop it, Max? It's not a big deal."

"Please, every time you get whacked out, something goes down." She fixed him with a look that clearly said_ you know it's true, so don't even argue_. "I'd like to know what's goin' on now before I have to bail your ass out of trouble later."

"Max," he explained slowly, as if to a child, "We're on a cruise in the middle of nowhere. What trouble could I possibly be in?"

She continued to glare at him and his jaw hardened, but his voice remained very carefully bland. "I really don't feel like arguing right now, so can we just drop this?"

"Who says we have to argue about this?" She argued.

"Do you ever get tired of being a bitch, Max?" he sighed, running a hand through his hair.

Oh no, he didn't!

"As much as I'd love for you to launch yourself at me while I'm still in bed, just hear me out, okay?" He held up his hands entreatingly.

"Fine," she said tightly, "But don't make me regret it."

"You're no fun." He began.

"Regretting it," she singsonged.

"Not as much as me, believe me, but I've got to say it." He swung his legs over the side of the bed, his eyes catching hers. "You're my friend, Max, have been since you broke me out of jail and told me about Ben."

She didn't want to say that she'd thought of him as a friend since Rachel Berrisford; since the first time she'd seen past Ben's face, past Manticore's training, and to the real man inside. It'd be too humiliating to admit that now though, especially since he counted the beginning of their friendship six weeks after that episode.

Alec continued on, even after her eyes flicked away from him. "And being my friend, I'm kinda wondering what's going on with you lately. I thought that we were sorta close; you told me about my clone, I stole a car for your clone… we bonded." He shrugged before continuing on. "...But ever since you found out about the cure, you've gotten more and more grumpy. Shouldn't you be happy about this? And if you're not happy, then why the hell are you taking it out on me?"

"I am happy," she protested, a little bit too forcefully by Alec's reckoning.

"Then why have you been sulking in our room for over a week? And what's with the name calling?"

…

…

"I hate the ocean."

His head cocked, he stared at her questioningly.

"I have nightmares sometimes… About Manticore…" She explained. Yeah, okay, so maybe she didn't sleep often. But nightmares were haunting no matter how often they occurred.

"Aaah." He nodded sagely. "The Tank."

"It's not the cure I'm unhappy about." She insisted, "It's being on a boat in the middle of an ocean with nothing around to save us should said boat sink."

She glanced down miserably, as though the confession pained her. "I can usually do boats, harbors, pools, whatever… but the middle of the ocean, sea floor thousands of leagues down, no land in sight?" She looked back up at him, gauging his reaction to this weakness.

He bit the end of his tongue, eyes crinkling in delight. She waited patiently for him to spit whatever he wanted to say out and stop looking so damn gleeful. "But you've got shark DNA, Maxie."

"Yeah? Well, I've got a lotta cat in me too, and cats don't like water."

* * *

"And why do you think I wanted to listen to this? If I wanted to understand the mating rituals of animals, I'd go to the zoo." White tore the headphones off in disgust, looking away from the recorded video of the almost flirtatious transgenics.

"Just commenting on a weakness, sir."

Ames let out an incredulous laugh, eyes narrowed. "I don't pay you to comment. I don't pay you to think. I pay you to do what I say. Don't call me again unless you've got news on my son."

Ames White was not a patient man. He couldn't take much more waiting. He did, however, store that delightful tidbit about 452 for future use. So a shock prod didn't faze her, eh? Maybe a good dunking would do the trick, then. He looked again at the incompetent men that surrounded him. Only a handful were Familiars and even they couldn't get anything right. It was time to take matters into his own hands.

"Get him on the phone," White's voice was menacing. "This isn't getting us anywhere. I'm through waiting."

* * *

Alec stepped out of the bathroom, toweling his hair off. "Should I even ask if you want to come up to the deck with me?"

"Probably not," She smiled. Max had never been good at apologies. But she tried anyway. "Listen, about the name-calling, and stuff…"

"Apology accepted." He shrugged, sitting down on his bed to pull on his boots.

"Who said I was apologizing?" She scoffed, sitting next to him to pull on her own shoes. "Seeing as how you got some last night, can't say I was too far off the truth."

He glanced sideways at her, his face twisting in amusement. "Max, I spent last night at the bar with my good friend Whiskey Jack."

"Oh… well…"

"Apology accepted."

"Right."

"So," he glanced at her boots, now securely tied. "You coming up to the deck with me?"

"If I fall overboard, I am so kicking your ass."

"Dually noted."

* * *

"Logan Cale. This is Ames White. I'd like to discuss a business proposition with you." Ames White smiled as he heard Cale suck in a breath. He tapped the image of 452 and 494 as they exited their room. Not much longer, now.

* * *

Alec let her step on to the elevator before him, following in closely. Pushing the button for the mid-level deck, he shot her a comforting smile.

"Alec," She asked softly. "What if… what if we get the cure and I get back… and it's too late? What if Logan and I have been not-like-that for so long…"

He pulled her into that half embrace he always used when dealing with her. Like he couldn't handle completely holding her or something…

"Is that what's really been bothering you? Max, that'll never happen. Logan's crazy about you. You two were meant for each other. End of story."

* * *

"What do you want?" Logan asked guardedly.

"Nothing much. I want Ray. And you're going to tell me how to find him."

"And why would I do that?"

"Because if you don't, I'll have the Familiars near 452 set off the explosives that we've filled the ship with."

Logan's heart skipped a beat.

* * *

"See, Max! Salty sea air! Wind in your face! Fun, eh?"

"You are way too cheerful." Max groused as another strong gust stole her breath. She glanced distrusting up at a darkening sky.

* * *

"Ship?" Logan asked. "Max is in Terminal City where you and your cult followers can't get to her."

White's laugh was short, clipped. Logan could almost picture the wry, deadpan face he'd be using right now. "Really? That's funny. Because I could have sworn the information on Doctor Xen that I fed you would put her on the only liner headed towards New Zealand."

A cell phone rang behind White. One of his followers answered it, sparing White no more than a disdainful glance. He listened intently, before nodding and hanging up with a murmured _Fenos'tol. _

"And I could have sworn that one of my Familiars set up a camera in the room of the only couple that matches 452's and 494's descriptions."

Logan was not a man of strong words. He believed in decorum and taste. But that didn't stop the expletive from slipping past his lips when he'd realized he'd been out maneuvered. What's worse, that he'd practically handed Max to White on a silver platter.

"How do I know you won't blow up the ship as soon as I give you the information on Ray?"

"Because I'm a man of my word, Mr. Cale. My son is the most important thing to me."

The man behind White dialed another number, speaking softly in a language long dead.

"Now, do we have a deal?"

* * *

The resounding boom was really the only warning they had. The screaming started almost immediately. The deck buckled and heaved, and Max found herself propelled towards the railing at a frightening speed. Shock and fear paralyzed her senses, and only Alec's quick grab stopped her from tumbling over the edge and into the icy water below.

* * *

"What the hell just happened?" White turned to stare at the man behind him. He snapped the cell phone shut.

"It is the will of the Conclave."

Whites gun was out before anyone realized what was happening. The man was dead, a bullet between his eyes, shortly afterwards.

"Anyone else questioning loyalties?" White snarled, his gun held high and steady. When no one spoke, he pointed his 9 mm. directly at the man in front of the computer. "Get me security feed of the deck. You better pray she's still alive."

* * *

No one had any time to react. Nobody who wasn't transgenic, anyway. Max was tossed into a life boat, courtesy of Alec, and the flames exploding out from the windows, licking their way up the deck, stalled any protest she might have had at the rough treatment. The front end of the boat was already tipping into the air, as if a giant hole had been blown in back of the ship.

"Shit, shit, shit." Alec was muttering under his breath, punching at the deployment controls on the deck. The emergency sirens came on shortly after; the locking mechanism disengaging as the crisis, readily apparent to the ship's customers, was made apparent to the shipboard computers.

* * *

"There," White pointed at the screen. "That's them."

* * *

He dove off the side of the deck, into the rapidly descending lifeboat, as the prow of the cruise liner climbed ever higher, as the flames burned ever brighter.

This was no Titanic life boat, thank god. This was modern day, Life Saving Appliance Code certified life boat. Which meant it had a motor. Which Alec wasted no time in kicking on as soon as the jarring landing in the icy water was over.

"Alec," Max insisted, "the people."

Only a handful of other lifeboats had deployed. Alec couldn't look back, didn't want to put vision to the terrible screaming he heard.

"The ship's going down too fast, we can't risk it."

"Alec-"

"Max," he couldn't look at her, not and retain any fortitude. "There was only a handful of people on the cruise. And not even an eighth of them were on deck, which meant they were below deck. You felt the explosion, Max... Most of them are already dead." He kept his eyes on the horizon.

She could have hated him. Could have, if she hadn't seen how fast the blaze had spread. The ship had to have been packed with powerful explosives… But, why? And who had the kind of authority to-

"White." She muttered.

Alec didn't argue.

In the end, the decision to go back and check for survivors was taken from them. The wind, which had been strong before, only continued to pick up. The sky only continued to darken. And as the sea became more and more choppy, it was all they could do to think of their own survival.

* * *

End Chapter One

* * *


	2. Chapter 2: The First

Standard Disclaimers apply. Reviews appreciated. Happy Dances encouraged.

* * *

Castaway

Chapter Two: The First…

* * *

The first time Alec prayed, it went a little something like this…

_Hey… you…_

_I've never done this before. And I'm not really sure that you exist. And if you do exist, I don't now how I fit into the grand scheme of things, cuz hey! Made in a lab, here. I had a surrogate, so I popped out pretty normal like, and that's gotta count for something, right? So… if you do exist… just hear me out?_

_I don't want to die._

_Ummm…_

_Amen?_

It was not a prayer to make saints weep or choirs sing, but it was simple and honest and it brought him a small measure of comfort.

Max and Alec huddled under the orange tarp, well aware that the next wave could be the one to capsize them, the next gust the one to rip their only protection from the elements away.

Max was unaware of Alec's profound moment, busy as she was digging through the life kit that had been stashed under one of the seats, tied securely next to a small amount of spare fuel. What she discovered both made her want to cry in delight and weep in misery.

Rich people were idiots.

The kit contained many of the necessities that life boats were required to carry. Such as the highly visible tarp they were now crouched under. It contained a flare gun, a small radio, as well as a radio transmitter. None of them looked as though they'd seen sunshine since the year 2000.

The food and water required by international law, however, had been replaced with caviar and champagne.

Max wanted to throw up.

They cruise operators couldn't update the tools they needed to survive, but they could make sure their rich patrons wouldn't have to dine on anything as base as an M.R.E.? Either the owners of this cruise line were retarded, or they genuinely believed that their ship would never come to harm and were allowed to cut corners because of lax post-pulse regulation and a lot of money. Max was inclined to believe it was an unhealthy mixture of all of these things, and she'd never hated life more.

The only thing that kept her from provoking Alec into killing her was the regulations they hadn't broken, i.e. the tarp and the radios, the fuel and the oars, and the very old fishing rod strapped to the inside of the boat. It was something, anyway…

And there was one more item at the bottom of the kit that she couldn't bring herself to pull out.

The knowledge that Logan would find her was the only thing that kept her from really and truly crying. From considering what deliriousness and lack of water would do to her body. That in a week's time she could ask Alec to take the knife from the bottom of the kit and just end it. Or better yet, one small snap. It would be ironic, wouldn't it? She'd killed his twin that way; she could very well ask him to do the same to her when delirium set in... The thought left her horrified. So she held on to her faith in Logan.

She realized that her faith could be a pipe dream… that it would surely burn away into despair over the next few days, but for now, it offered her a modicum of comfort.

Alec's eyes flicked over everything she had pulled from the kit. Watching the disgust and despair war on Max's face as she pulled the champagne from the box, the only thing he could think was,

_If I've got to die, at least I can go with a decent buzz going. _

It was ridiculous and insane, but Alec had long ago accepted that he was never sure what his brain was going to contribute, and so shook his head, controlled the hysterical laughter that threatened to erupt from his chest, and took another shot at the praying thing that ordinaries set so much store by. At least he tried to… he kept getting distracted by the howling of the wind, the wild rocking of the boat, and the way in which Max kept turning the radio beacon over and over again in her hand.

The first time Alec awoke in that dismal dinghy, it was to a calm sky overhead. And a worried Max hovering over him.

"What?" He croaked, sitting up from his uncomfortable position.

"Nothing," She muttered. She wanted to hit him, to scream at him, to throw him in the water. He'd fallen asleep as the worst of the storm had hit and how he'd managed to remain asleep as the boat had rocked wildly was beyond her. She assumed it was something that he'd learned at Manticore.

The real reason she wanted to hurt him, though, was because of how alone she'd felt. She couldn't admit to him that she'd hovered over him, anxious, as the first rays of sunshine had broken. That the stretching emptiness of the ocean terrified her on primal levels she hadn't known existed. That she'd waited for him to wake.

Of course she didn't wake him up, though, because she was sure the nattering would begin shortly after the fact, and she didn't want to kill him until absolutely necessary.

Alec blinked eyes that had been caked with a thin layer of sea salt. The ocean stretched as far as the eye could see. Alec imagined that if you could sit in the middle of eternity, this is what it would feel like.

"Why aren't we under the tarp?" He demanded. Had it blown away in the night?

"Relax, hero." She groused. "It's folded behind me. I just wanted to stretch my neck for a bit." And get in some much needed sunshine. Last night had been terrifying.

Alec must have sensed that, because instead of lecturing her about the sun, its reflection upon the water, or the necessity of staying under wraps, he simply nodded and pushed himself up onto the bench. He gazed morosely across the waters. The ship wreck of the previous day might as well have been a dream.

"Where are we?" He asked, drained and defeated.

She shrugged, her voice making her out to be far less concerned than she truly was. "I don't know. The good people of Sunshine Cruise Inc. didn't feel the need to provide us with a map or a compass. And the storm pushed us pretty far last night. There's no sign of any wreckage. We could be miles away from our charted course…" Her voice faltered and failed as she lost the ability to fake nonchalance. The radio beacon in her hands was turned over and back again.

Alec's eyes followed the movement. "Max?" He asked gently, uncharacteristically.

She smiled grimly across at him. "I can't make up my mind. The explosion… it must have been White." Her eyes dropped to the beacon.

"And if we activate the beacon…" His words trailed off

It'd be like a big ole' sign, pointing straight at them, reading "C'mon cult loonies, come and get it!"

"But if we don't…" Max left the words unsaid.

If they didn't, their hope of rescue would dwindle to a statistical improbability bordering on the impossible.

"Max, a rescue is a rescue, even if your savior happens to be the devil…" He smiled, in the first sign of liveliness since he'd woken. "Plus, we could always rough 'em up once we're on dry land." He pulled his fists in tight, making little jabs like a boxer. He stopped when he realized his masculine performance was doing little to impress her.

"I know…" She said, eyes still trained on the device that could be their salvation, unable to respond to the smile in his voice. "But you know what Logan said…"

"About the Biblically Bad Phenomenon that's turned you into a tattooed handbook for world peace?"

She rolled her eyes. "In so many words, yeah."

"What about it?"

Wide eyes held his and she let a little of her soul leak through. "Can I really afford to just hand myself over to them? If I'm supposed to be some sort of…" Here she faltered, finding it hard to put words to something that should only be in the realm of science fiction. After a moment, she pressed on. "If I'm supposed to be the savior of mankind, can I really just hand myself to the enemy?"

He looked askance at her, mouth twisting. "Max, would you listen to yourself? How can you be a savior if you die from exposure? We don't have a lot of choice in this."

"Yes, we do." She insisted. "X-series can survive about a week without food or water."

He almost laughed. Almost. "You're suggesting you just let the wind take us wherever it may blow and hope we make it out of this?"

"Wind's not taking us anywhere, Pretty Boy." She looked pointedly at the oars.

"Maax," he whined. "That's why there's a motor."

"We have one spare gallon of gas that I'm not wasting just because you don't want to get sweaty. Now get cracking."

"Fine," he grumbled. "But we are so taking turns."

As he pulled the oars from their strappings, a thought occurred to him.

"Hey, Max, lemme at some of that champagne." When she just glared at him, he sighed. "I'll be more likeable." He wheedled.

"Eew." Her face scrunched in disgust, the mental image of a slobbery Alec coming on to her almost turning her stomach.

"Anyways, I can't." She breezed, indicating the bottle at her feet. It was almost empty.

"Jeez, Max."

"Shut up." She snapped, "I emptied it out and drained the dew from the tarp into it."

Alec had to admit that she had done the sensible thing.

Why did the sensible thing always have to suck the joy from his life?

It became rapidly apparent that broad shoulders aside, there was no way Alec would be able to row by himself. The life boat was just a hair too wide. So Max unhappily took the seat next to him. Yes, being in close proximity to Alec was uncomfortable, but worse was the realization that they wouldn't be able to take turns, cutting their mobility time in half. There was no helping it, though, so they rowed in silence, Alec strangely subdued.

The first time Alec took his shirt off, Max's tongue cleaved to the roof of her mouth. Yes, she'd seen him shirtless before. But the pressing nature of all of those shirtless situations (breeding program, the rapidly declining window of opportunity for Logan lovins', et cetera) hadn't exactly let her 'take it all in'. Didn't help that this time he was sweaty and the repetitive nature of the rowing made his muscles bunch and ripple in fascinating ways.

She decided the heat was getting to her, and that she would shoot herself later. Or... y'know... gouge out her eyeballs or something. More likely she'd take it out on him, but that would only be after she got over her embarassment.

The first time Alec saw Max blush, he decided that god did exist. End of story. He wasn't stupid enough to point it out to her, though.

Silence stretched, with only the sound of the oars slapping the water to distract them from their melancholy.

Alec, strangely enough, couldn't bring himself to chatter mindlessly at her. The circumstances were too dire, too unbelievable, too down right frightening… His brain was working at a mile a minute, but he found the rhythm of rowing soothing, and didn't want to break it by pretending to be cheerful when he was anything but. He couldn't believe how calm she was about all this... or even how calm he was, all things considered. 'All things' being the fact that they were stranded in to the middle of the ocean with almost no hope of rescue... Maybe... maybe when they came down to it... Maybe they really did put a lot of faith in the fact that she was the 'savior' of mankind. He frowned...

Or maybe he'd just never thought it'd end like this...

Day stretched into night. Alec pulled the shirt back over his raw, red skin, pulled the tarp over their heads, and slumped low into the belly of the boat. Max moved across from him, each movement stiff and pained. Even her winces hurt.

Were they two genetically revved up superhumans? Yeah. Could they row the hell out of those oars? Hell yeah. Did they come with magical, 100 percent UV ray blocking skin? No more than any other human. And it doesn't matter who you are; sunburns suck.

Magical skin they may not have. Fast healing capabilities? Check! Alec woke up feeling better than when he'd turned in. Once again, Max had already stowed the tarp. Wordlessly, she handed him the champagne bottle. He took a swig, more to clear his mouth than anything else. The water was slightly stale and held a hint of champagne, but it was better than nothing. And the day started all over again.

Only this time, his spirits had returned a little bit, and he was feeling especially chatty. The rhythmic novelty of rowing had quickly worn off. Now, he was just down right bored.

Max thought of the knife in the bottom of the kit, but decided the sound of his voice was better than the silence.

Alec regaled her with tales of survival training. Only a few short days ago, Max would have told him to shut it, but today she listened. Try as he might, though, he couldn't get her to join the conversation with anything other than monosyllabic contributions.

He told her everything he knew about the geography of the Pacific Ocean. He left out how deep it was. He didn't think she would appreciate that. Some of it she knew. Which is why, contrary to what some people might do, they were not headed east, but southwest. To the east lay open water. They'd never make it to the coastline of America, and with the radio beacon still unactivated, they'd never be found. It was frankly impossible. To the southwest though, provided they were somewhat near the original course of the cruise ship, lay the French Polynesians.

Well, the former French Polynesians. They hadn't been connected to France since the Pulse. The Pulse hadn't just affected America. You bring down the basis of the world economy, other cards tumble as well.

There was a very real possibility the cruise might have passed Polynesia… they weren't sure. Alec had been busy flirting and Max had been busy being neurotic in the cabin… Their argument had lasted a half hour, each trying to blame the other for not being more observant. They lapsed into a cold silence that lasted the rest of the day.

But still, if it wasn't that group of islands, there were still the Marshall Islands to hope for. Or the Kiribati, Konga, Samoa, or hell, maybe even Fiji. Point being, the west Pacific Ocean was chock-full of islands. Hundreds of islands. To the west lay their only chance of salvation. And so they rowed west.

And rowed.

And rowed.

And rowed.

On the third day, they split the caviar, coming to an uneasy truce that wasn't quite enough to break the silence between them. They didn't hate the caviar as much as they thought they would. The fishing rod had yet to pull anything from the ocean. Alec surmised that some bait would have been helpful in this situation. Max pointed out that they'd just eaten the bait. Alec, still angry about the names she'd shouted at him the previous day, didn't say much after that. Their sunburns took a little bit longer to heal. Max thought longingly of lotion.

The fourth day passed much the same. Except that, ass kicking aside, sometimes it sucked to be a girl. Salt coated her hair, her face, her clothes. And though Alec might not have a problem with being grimy, Max was longing for O.C. and her cucumbers. What's worse, unlike Alec, she couldn't just pull off her shirt to escape some of the stickiness she felt. No way she was letting Alec get a peep show. Especially since he was so damn unobservant, he didn't even know if they were past Polynesia or not.

Her thoughts, though, were half-hearted.

The two transgenics were weakening faster than they'd expected. The combination of the constant rowing, the sun, the very little water… It was all taking its toll. On day five, they broke their silence and estimated that they had about a week left of life in them (provided that they actually managed to catch a fish anytime soon). Granted the last couple days of said life would be spent broken and delirious…

The first time Max really and truly wanted to cry was on the sixth day. Every day, Alec was sleeping a little bit longer. Each day, it was taking him a little bit longer to shake his grogginess away. They were both red now, sunburns no longer disappearing overnight like they had at first. Alec was looking a little worse for wear... The truth started to set in. Alec had more mass than her. It took more to keep him running. He was degenerating faster than she was.

She didn't know what she would do if he died before her. She only knew that she would go insane when it happened. She didn't think she could be out here, in the middle of nowhere, by herself... And more than that, she couldn't be the cause for another friend's death. When she handed him the bottle, she lied and told him she'd already taken her share of the water. She only felt relief as he drank it all.

The first time Max had prayed, it had been in a hospital chapel, while the man she loved was dying because of her.

The second time Max prayed, it was a garbled mess of selfishness and selflessness. She prayed that god would let her die first, so she wouldn't have to watch Alec's mind and body wither away. She prayed that god would let them die simultaneously, and then prayed that god would let them live. She prayed that no matter what, Logan and Asha would never get together. And then, because she was feeling foolish for asking god for help, she prayed for food to rain from the sky. Then she told god to fuck off.

Needless to say, her prayers went unanswered.

The sixth day was also the day Alec took the homing beacon from under the seat and turned it on. Max didn't say anything. Not at first.

Then she took a long, hard look at him.

"I don't hate you." Her voice was gravelly with disuse and with salt. It startled her, but not as much as her words startled him.

He shook his head, fear numbing his soul. "Don't say that."

A little bit of fire filled her and she scowled at him. "You don't get to dictate my dying words, pal."

His smile was wan, but it warmed her anyway. "Since when have you ever given up?" He leaned forward in earnestness, hands reaching forward to capture hers, his eyes bright. "We're going to get out of this."

Smiling felt good to her and she let her hands rest in his for just a moment before pulling away in discomfort. "I thought I was the one who was supposed to be all comforting in a crisis."

He grinned. "Yeah, well, you suck at girly stuff."

That's when the first fat drop of rain hit her nose.

The clouds piled on top of each other faster than they would have ever believed possible. At least, they wouldn't have believed it possible if they hadn't lived in Seattle for the past year, where gray skies and rain were a fact of life. Still, their gentle happiness, the last true warm moment they thought they'd ever share, was broken.

The first time Max cried was the first time Alec really and truly held her. Huddled underneath the tarp as the choppy waters battered their small boat, he wrapped both arms around her, murmuring comfortingly into her hair. She hated that she was crying, she hated that he was comforting her, she hated that they were_ here_. But more than any of that... she was terrified.

She really did hate the ocean.

Her keening wails, of fear and loss and anger, were drowned out by the howl of the wind, but they tore at his heart just the same.

Alec was angry, but it didn't stop him from whispering soothing nothings to her, words she couldn't even hear over her tears and the wind. But she could feel his lips moving against her scalp, feel the gentle puffs of his breath, and it meant something to her.

He told her why he was angry. He told her that they couldn't go out this way. That it wasn't fair. They should die fighting. If Max's worst fear was realized and they did drown, it would be the greatest cosmic joke of the century. And Alec was convinced that if god existed, he had no sense of humor and he was just a sick bastard, and so there was no way they were going to drown.

So maybe his words weren't that comforting. But it was the thought that counted. And she couldn't hear him anyway, so what did it matter?

There was no way to know which way the storm pushed them. This time, though, the gale didn't last into nightfall and beyond. It stopped as evening approached.

The first time they saw land, it was nothing more than a gray haze on the horizon. They wouldn't even recognize that it was land until the morning of the seventh day.

Max was the first to wake up. The first to see the chain of islands stretched ahead in the distance. The first to laugh aloud in delight and disbelief. The noise of the motor being started had Alec sitting up slowly, shaking sleep off.

He couldn't admit, even to himself, that he was disappointed that Max wasn't in his arms.

Screw that.

He could admit it. It was the stress and the nerves and being hundreds of miles from safety. So he wanted human contact. Big deal. Yeah, maybe he was transgenic, genetically gifted. He was still a human. Mostly human, anyway. Still a social animal that craved contact in times of distress.

Still, never, ever going to admit that to Max, though.

So instead he let himself be burgeoned by the sight of the islands in the distance. Laughed with Max. Pulled her close. Kissed the top of her head in wonder. Let himself hope for the first time in days as those distant isles rapidly loomed larger…

And yet, not that large.

The first "island" they passed was little more than a rock jutting from the sea. Tall and jagged, no life, except maybe some algae, grew on its slimy surfaces. They didn't stop.

The next few islets were small. Still, the hope didn't dim. Just eyeballing the shoreline, though, told them all they needed to know. No more than a mile or so across, none of these islands held anything more than a spattering of tropical plants, birds, insects, and bats.

It was obvious this was a chain of underwater volcanoes that had died long before they'd finished pushing their heads past the choppy waves of the ocean. Some of the watery projections and sandbars could be the products of a reef, but since it made no difference to the matter of their survival, other than possibly housing a bountiful food supply, they didn't dwell on it.

Only one island looked large enough to hold human life. It was rapidly looming larger, far larger than any of the other atolls they passed. Eventually, it filled their vision, and they had to decide which to do, circumvent the island or stop, trek the island on foot, and determine if there was anyone on it, or if there were any more islands past it. The way volcanic islands were formed, any island past this one would only be larger, and hence it would be more likely they'd be rescued by someone other than a snake worshipper.

Thirst and hunger made the decision easy. They stopped.

The first time her boot hit sand, she laughed in happiness. And then sat down rather abruptly as she realized the ground wasn't rocking for a change and dizziness overwhelmed her… Alec didn't do much better, not so much stepping out of the boat as tumbling out.

If he could have inhaled the sand, kissed the grit, he would have. Instead he flung an arm over her abdomen and smiled across at her. He was weak. He was tired. God, he was fucking tired. But he was on dry land…

And she was the most beautiful thing he'd ever seen. Her red tan face pressed against the pale sand, the warm yellow sun brightening her dark hair. He'd never wanted to kiss anyone so badly in his life. Part of him realized it was a reaction to their horrendous ordeal. That he wanted to prove he was still alive. The other part of him didn't care what his motivations were.

Max, however, didn't know what to make of his intense scrutiny. She stared into his hazel eyes for a long moment, before looking away, unable to stand the heat of his gaze or the meaning behind it. She was sure she looked as terrible as she felt, and it was with a groan that she rolled away from him and pushed herself to her feet.

"Come on, Not So Pretty Boy," She quipped with as much enthusiasm as she could muster. "Let's pull the boat on shore and get moving."

"Jeez, Max." He muttered. "Why not just call me Ugly Boy and get it over with." He scratched at seven days worth of scruff on his face, hiding his disappointment that she'd moved away from him so quickly.

"Whatever, Mountain Man. Get your ass in gear."

He wanted to tell her his ass was dehydrated and hungry and could she at least appreciate the fact that they'd almost died and take it a wee bit slower? But the excitement and the happiness gave him a rush of adrenaline he hadn't been expecting, so he bounced to his feet and moved in next to her. Their combined efforts and a few minutes of struggling and groaning and their boat was far enough up on the beach that they wouldn't be screwed should the tide come in.

They agreed they'd be far more likely to find fresh water in the tropical forest that stretched before them than along the shore line. So the took a moment to get their bearings, stared hard at the sun, agreed that it was crazy they were setting out without a compass, grabbed the knife from the bottom of their kit, and finally set out.

Animalistic stalkers of prey, they were not. Great bumbling hunks of flesh whose gaits were more kin to the weaving steps of a drunk… little bit closer to the truth. Originally they'd planned to leave marks in the tree trunks they passed, but the wake of destruction behind them, trampled underbrush, squished fungi, and broken branches, would be the only thing they'd need to find their way back to the beach.

They sniped at each other, comparing each other to every lumbering animal they could think of. If she was a hippo, then he was a rhino. If he was a bear, than she was a cow. She didn't much like the cow analogy. Or the hippo one, for that matter. He'd gotten smacked upside the head more times in the past two minutes than he had during the entire week. But it was nice. They were falling back into their easy, snarky ways of dealing with each other. On many levels, it was comforting. And it kept them moving when the adrenaline faded and all they wanted to do was stop and sleep.

The first pool of water they found, they did not immediately drink from. Fed from a series of waterfalls sluicing off the side of the ground down, long-dead volcano, they stumbled across it by accident. He might have made a comment about her hair and rats' nests and she might have shoved him a little bit harder then she should have, causing him to stumble through large ferns and onto a rock overlooking the pool. They hadn't even noticed the sound of the water over their banter and their wooziness. They would have walked right by it and never known.

That didn't mean she was going to thank him for commenting on her hair. Nor was he going to thank her for the cut in his jeans and the scrape on his knee.

Bitch.

Bastard.

Name calling, however, was eventually discarded as more important arguments were made.

"Look at it this way. Say there is a dead animal upstream, and the water is polluted, and we die. If this is the only water we come across, we die anyway." He rationalized. They'd sat, just staring at water in torment for the last five minutes, both thinking of all the reasons why they shouldn't drink from a pool in the middle of a jungle that they knew nothing about.

She bit her lip. She really didn't want to play devil's advocate about this; she wanted to clear her mouth of salt and grime, she wanted to wash her face, she wanted to stop being thirsty for the first time in days. So she nodded, and they carefully picked their way down the rocky incline to the water's edge.

With each sip, her mind came back into focus. Each small trickle of cool water past his lips scrubbed a little bit more of the fogginess from the recesses of his brain. Nothing felt better though, than when they finally caved and submerged themselves beneath the moving waters, coming up sputtering, cold, but cleaner than they'd been in days.

Max relaxed, if just for a moment, ignoring the sharp pricks of crushed rocks beneath her in favor of the warmth of the sunlight, more visible in this clearing than in the jungle that surrounded them. Alec, like the little monkey he was, was scampering over boulders, moving away from her. She stifled the irrational fear of being left alone. He was intent upon something, and if it stopped him from comparing her to any more animals, she could deal.

"Hey, Max, look at this!" He called from his spot near the waterfall.

"Look at what?" She called back lazily, eyes tracing the glistening spray of water.

"There's a cave back here."

She sat up as Alec's head disappeared behind the curtain of water.

"Eww. Alec don't go _in_ there."

"Why not?" Even from this distance, his smile was nothing if not roguish as his head popped back into view.

"There could be bats in there. Or bugs. Or something else gross." She protested.

He shrugged, moving back towards her. "One man's pestilent flying mammal, another man's dinner."

"Okay. Gross. Never say that again." Man, what she would _kill_ for some chicken right now. Or even some pasta. Say what you want about Logan, man knew how to cook pasta…

Wait…

Logan.

"That's enough poking around. Let's get moving." She pushed herself up, her frown sucking all the joy from the atmosphere.

"Come on, Max." He caught up with her as she made her way up the incline. "Aren't you just the littlest bit curious?"

"No."

"Not even the teeniest bit?"

"I said no, Alec." She stopped to look at him, shaking her head. "Do you really want to split up, 'cause you're starting to piss me off."

He frowned at her. Well yeah, if she was going to turn back into uber-bitch, who wouldn't want to split up? But still. "We're in this together, Max. Plus, hey." He waved his hands around, indicating the jungle around them. "Middle of the jungle here. No way to communicate… Could be a problem."

"Then let's get going. 'Together.'" She rolled her eyes, making air quotations as she mocked him. "Preferably now."

"Fine, fine," he grumbled, sparing one last glance at the waterfall and the hidden depths behind it. His mouth pursed and his eyes narrowed. You never know what will come in handy.

The spotty light filtering from above made the atmosphere positively gloomy. Sure, Max was used to gray Seattle skies, but the dappled light was depressing her spirits better than any visualization of Logan and Asha together would ever do. Alec, having picked up on her bitchiness at the waterfall, was doing his best to remain silent.

Even though he was bursting with knowledge and a newfound respect for life and he wanted to tell her everything that was occurring to him.

Like those strange screeches in the air around them were not the products of birds, but of monkeys. Although he thought that he might have heard a parrot…

No, Alec did not have any idea where they were, other than that they were on a small chain of islands, south of the equator but far enough north to be tropical. Closer to New Zealand and they wouldn't be seeing plants like this… They had to be in what was known as a "wet" tropical environment, because none of the trees they passed were deciduous. Which meant no long period of drought, thank god, but it also meant lots and lots of rain…

Guess living on the beach wasn't going to happen.

God, why was he even thinking like that? As if they were going to be stuck here long enough to make a permanent solution to their nonexistent housing difficulties. If White's snake loonies didn't get them, then surely Logan, Max's knight in whirring armor, would come for them.

So he continued playing walking dictionary in his head. Fungi. The ground of a rainforest only receives about two percent of sunlight, so not much else would grow on the floor. But hey, bonus! Cuz they could walk fairly easily among the trees (provided they don't get shoved through some ferns by self-conscious females or trip over buckling tree roots… totally not his fault she didn't see that). Decaying plant and animal matter would disappear rapidly thanks to the warmth and wetness of the environment. Lots of insects, though… Wonder how hungry he'd have to be to eat that caterpillar right there.

Max, watching Alec eye a caterpillar, didn't even want to know what was going on his mind. First edible fruit she found, she'd be shoving it down his throat, just so she'd never have to see that look of speculation cross his features again.

First edible fruit they found was an unripe mango. He stared mistrusting at it.

"I thought those only grew in the Caribbean."

She rolled her eyes. "Hello, they originated in Southeast Asia." When he paused to look at her strangely she huffed in defense. "What? My boyfriend likes to cook, big deal." And then because she was still feeling defensive. "And what about you? Don't they teach you about this kind of stuff at Manticore? You know, for exactly this kind of situation?"

He frowned, poking at the hard skin. "Fruit 101… Must have slept in that day."

It was sour. Almost as sour as a lemon (Alec secretly wished he had eaten the caterpillar). But it was weight in their stomachs and sugar in their blood, and it left them almost weak kneed.

When they were done, Alec wiped his hands on his jeans, still slightly damp, in hopes to remove a little bit of the stickiness coating his fingers. He stood and stretched, offering a hand to Max which, typically, she didn't take. He shrugged.

"We need to pick up the pace." Max stared hard at the canopy above their heads. What time was it? How long had they been walking? With no way to see the sun, there was no way to determine how close it was to sunset. It didn't take a fertile imagination to guess that it probably got a whole lot darker in here when the sun went down.

"Maybe we can find a snuggly little cave to hole up in. We could make a fire. Make little shadow puppets… Wouldn't that be fun, Max? Hey, Max! Wait up!"

They broke through the canopy and on to a high clearing just in time to see the sunset paint the forest below and the water in the distance startling shades of orange and yellow.

The water. The forest.

No other islands.

No human settlements.

Nothing.

As the sun sank, so did Max, coming to rest on her haunches. Alec followed her down, and they shared their first moment of solidarity, touching shoulders, since that morning.

"It'll be okay, Max."

* * *

End Chapter Two

* * *


	3. Chapter 3: Necessity

A/N: Big thanks to my reviewers and cheers for the one happy dance I got! Ahhh yeah! And big, huge thanks to Man vs. Wild for teaching me more about survival than I will ever need to know. Internet, big help too. :D Ending A/N moved here on 02/04 because I don't like cluttering the end of chapters after they've been posted for a while: Max is a hard character to write. She is a very strange mixture of give and take, arrogance and humility, toughness and vulnerability, and bitchiness and whatever the hell you want to place opposite of bitchiness. Le Sigh. YAY! Bamboo houses are cool!

Standard disclaimers apply. Reviews encouraged. Happy dances required.

* * *

Castaway 

Chapter 3: Necessity

* * *

Necessity dictates that food, water, and shelter are required when you are in the business of staying alive. 

Nowhere on that list was fire or companionship.

Max's arms folded across her chest. "I'm not going to freeze my ass off because you're scared of mosquitoes."

"Yeah? Well I'm not going to be eaten alive because you're scared of the dark." Alec paused. "Have you ever been bitten by a mosquito? News flash; it sucks." Then his smile broadened at his clever turn of phrase.

"And you have?" Her eyebrow arched. When he opened his mouth to reply, she snorted. "Wait, don't tell me… _solo ops_, right?" The disdain in her voice goaded him into ignoring the little voice in his head telling him to shut up.

"Team drills, actually." He sneered. "Course you and your little 09er friends wouldn't know much about that, would you?"

He was expecting the punch, sliding out of the way only moments before her fist would have smashed into his face. He should have expected the sweep of her foot that sent him crashing into the ground, but hey, he was exhausted, sunburned, and now, pissed.

He flung out his arms, exasperation in every line of his body. "Fine, forget it!" He rolled to his feet. "I'll go find someplace else to sleep." He began stalking towards the trees, muttering to himself, well aware she could hear everything he said, but caring very little. "_Bitch. Who needs this crap? I'll find somewhere else. It's a big island. Maybe I'll get lucky and White will only take her and I can stay here and never have to deal with her ag- _OOF."

Waaait. Why was he on the ground, again? Did she just _tackle_ him?

"You're not going anywhere, mister." Max said imperiously as she pushed herself to a seated position on his back. "We're in this together. Besides, do you know how incredibly stupid it would be to walk around in the jungle during the night time?" She gestured at the trees in emphasis, even though Alec was too busy inhaling dirt to look up.

"Max," he groaned, face smooshed into the ground. "We're immune to almost every toxin on the planet."

She stood, catching his eyes as he rolled over. "Yeah, but we're not immune to falling trees or broken bones. _We_," she emphasized, pointing first at herself and then at him. "are sleeping here."

He made no move to get up, just breathing, before breaking eye contact to stare up at the vast night sky. "Never see stars like that in the city," he said softly.

Max, taking his comment as the capitulation that it was, turned her eyes upwards. The sun had sunk into the horizon only a few short minutes ago, but already the velvety sky was being sprinkled with the twinkling lights of a thousand stars.

A part of Max ached in longing, knowing that Logan would have loved to see it.

Alec said nothing the rest of the night, eventually drifting off into sleep. Max, exhausted by the week-long ordeal and the time they'd spent wandering in the jungle, fell asleep shortly after. They never did build the fire. Partly because they didn't want to venture into the forest to find the tools they'd need. And partly because, on a deserted island, companionship was more of a necessity than fire.

Dawn came fast. The sudden light woke them both from their places of discomfort on the ground. It took Alec a few moments of disorientation to realize that no, he was not at home in bed. Max, unaccustomed to sleeping as often as she had lately (must be stress, she surmised), rubbed her aching temples. After a few minutes of groaning and stretching, they got down to the business of planning.

"We should head back to that waterfall." Alec mused.

Max nodded, ignoring the gnawing emptiness in her stomach. "We can scout downstream, look for some food and some shelter."

"What about the cave?" Alec's eyes sparkled. Damn if that boy didn't want to go spelunking.

Max rolled her eyes. "Forget about the cave, Alec. It'll be too damp to sleep in there, and we won't be able to build a fire without smothering ourselves with smoke."

Alec pouted. "But what about my flying mammal meal?"

"You are so gross."

"It's why you love me." He grinned.

"Not in this lifetime."

Alec stood, stretching arms overhead one last time. "That being said, time for a potty break."

"And you wonder why I think you're gross." She shook her head incredulously, also coming up from her crouched position.

As they walked down the sloped terrain, Max tuned out Alec's chattering to try and work out yesterday's timeline in her head. She knew that in the tropics day and night were divided almost equally, but she and Alec had spent the better part of yesterday wandering about the jungle in a post-traumatic fog. Not including the time in the boat and the time at the waterfall, almost 8 hours, in fact. That couldn't be right. She brought it up to Alec.

"I've been keeping track of the turns we made. We didn't move in a straight line." He replied, unnerving her with his sudden seriousness and his quick grasp of the situation. "We were all over the place, mostly because of the time we spent on the ocean, but partly because there's no frickin' way to tell where we're headed." He glared up at the canopy that made navigation virtually impossible.

Once they realized that they hadn't exactly taken the straightest of paths, they began moving more surely. Or as surely as one can after having spent a week on a boat struggling for survival. Their keen transgenic eyes picked between trees, searching for signs of their trail, and they took a straight course whenever possible, cutting out meandering side trails whenever possible. They didn't push their weak bodies and yet still managed to make it to the water's edge a little over an hour and a half later, cutting a good three hours from their path of the previous night. Needless to say, they were thoroughly disgusted with themselves.

"What would Lydecker say," Alec shook his head in mock sadness, finishing the last of a plantain they had found on the way, and beginning to eye the rest of Max's.

Max didn't dignify his comment with a response, splashing her face with some water. It was almost embarrassing how much time their unsteady gaits had wasted yesterday. Max took comfort in the fact that they were on a deserted island and no one ever had to know. And if Alec ever told another transgenic when they did get off this godforsaken rock, she would kill him. Period.

She smacked his hand as he reached for her unfinished fruit. He shrugged, returning to the water's edge to slowly shave away the rest of his short beard. Max watched, almost entranced, and wondered why he hated the thought of a beard so much. She eventually chalked it up to years of military discipline and her earlier 'mountain man' comment (she didn't know it, but that was exactly why he was using a damn _survival _knife on his face). Truth be told, at home, he'd shaved so closely, Max hadn't known Alec was even capable of growing a beard. Well, now he was back to his ruggedly handsome self. Ugh.

And on that note, she looked away, turning her eyes on the waterfall. Though multi-tiered, it was a mostly sheer drop, but they'd be able to climb the rocky hillside next to it despite its steepness. If they wanted to go upstream that is… Max figured they could save that exploration for later.

For now, with food and water taken care of, and their bodies quickly mending, they needed to start thinking about shelter.

They agreed that they needed to seek high ground, away from the trees to avoid falling trunks and flash floods. That was all they agreed on.

Max wanted ocean front property. Period. The closer they were to the ocean, the better they'd be able to see a ship that might not be of Cult origin. Also, the damn monkeys and their constant chattering was getting on her nerves. And hey, can't get farther away from falling trees than on a beach, right?

Alec, on the other hand, played his Mr. Responsibility Card. Max hated when he got all sensible, but he did have a few good points. Alec was worried about the lack of fresh water and visibility. If White and his loons were on the way, they should at least make it hard for them to find, play a little hide and seek... Better yet, hide-and-pounce of the get-off-this-island-with-less-Familiars-than-White-came-with variety. He suggested the cave hidden behind the waterfall. She fixed him with a look and no more was said about it. The worn down crest of the long-dead volcano was another option, but Max had a problem with the wind-chill factor.

In the end, they didn't choose the spot, the spot chose them.

The stream trickled west and joined a river. The river ran down the gently sloped terrain of the volcano until finally tumbling down rocky cliffs and to a fresh water pool below. The semi-secluded pool was surrounded by rugged rock walls and tall, gray boulders. A careful climb down the rock wall of the waterfall and then a quick climb up the short walls surrounding the water and they found that the pool actually drained into the most beautiful blue lagoon… it literally took her breath away. The white sandy beaches, the beautiful palms, the...

"It's not really blue," Alec mused aloud. "More of a turquoise than anything else."

"Shut it." Max grumped. "Always gotta ruin the moment, don't you?"

It wasn't just the fresh water and nature's version of a private shower that made the site interesting, though. The lagoon separated the deep ocean from the beach by a good mile or more. Which meant that if White showed up, they'd have plenty of time to spot him and go to ground while he traversed the distance. So in a way, they both got a little bit of what they wanted. Alec was still worried about hurricanes, but figured they could fall back on his cave if they had too. So, he reluctantly agreed that this is where they would set up camp.

He didn't want to admit that the monkeys were pissing him off almost as much as they were her and he'd rather shoot himself than live in the depths of the jungle. Note to self; first protein meal shall be monkey.

First protein meal was fish, which Max caught with her hands (it's good to be transgenic) while he hauled bamboo to their new campsite. She had gotten a fire going in his absence (with what, he wondered. Sand and coconuts?) and was happily roasting the unlucky fishies as he began scooping dirt with a broad, flat river stone he'd found.

In the end, they decided against building directly on the sand. Too little stability. They built directly off of the beach, instead, closer to the waterfall they'd found. Plus, the area they'd chosen was on a small rise, and the ground was fairly level. They wouldn't have to worry about tides coming in or making flooring (at least not yet, anyway, Max warned.)

"Max," he grunted, focus solely on the widening hole he was digging. "I thought you were into being all tough, not all domesticated."

"What's that supposed to mean?" She asked, her mouth twisting.

He paused to wipe sweat from his brow, leaving a trail of mud in its wake. "I mean, why am I the one digging and why are you the one cooking?" He gestured at the spitted fish.

"You said you wanted to make a shelter out of bamboo, tough guy. Well, here's me letting you do it."

"Max," He groaned. "I said, since we only have a _knife_, bamboo was the only option available to us."

She scowled at him. "Well excuse me for suggesting we use wood for sturdiness."

"What are we gonna chop the trees down with, Max?" He asked in exasperation. "Our fabulous psychic abilities?"

"Excuse me for thinking you might be strong enough to snap some branches off a tree, or break a small sapling, or hell, pick up some pieces of driftwood." Her voice rose with each exclamation until she was practically shouting, waving the spitted fish like a saber.

Alec, realizing that a raised voice with Max often escalated into raised fists, threw his hands up in defense, "Okay, okay. I'll consider your suggestion."

A few moments of blessed silence passed.

"But how would we nail it together?"

"Alec!"

"Okay! Jeez, I was just saying."

Max considered telling him to buzz off and catch his own fish, and hey, make his own fire while he was at it (it had taken her forever to get those two damn rocks to spark)… In the end, she didn't, partly because sending him to catch and cook his own meal would waste valuable daylight which they could spend on making a shelter and partly because there was a limit to even her bitchiness.

Okay, so it was mostly the daylight thing.

Alright, fine. So what if a little teeny tiny part of her remembered her desperation when he'd turned to leave her the night before, and didn't want a repeat of that event. And maybe an even smaller, teenier, tinier bit remembered how scared she'd been when she'd thought that he would die and there was nothing she could do about it. So what if that event and this one were totally unrelated (something she told her brain numerous times. Sadly, her brain refused to listen). She still couldn't tell Alec to buzz off.

The natural order of the world was all screwed up. She should not be scared of hurting Alec's feelings, damn it!

Not that he had any.

The guilt immediately welled at the traitorous thought, and she paused in her fish turning as her face fell... The images came rapidly, each bringing a stab of empathy that only served to heighten her guilt... Alec hunched over Rachel Berrisford's bed, the shock and pain on his face when they'd found Biggs, the silent understanding radiating from him as she told him about Ben…

Max sighed. Now was not the time to examine the growth that had taken place in their relationship over the last few months or her lack of growth when it came to dealing with him. Now was the time to eat. Even if the fish were a little charred and still had eyeballs and…

"Just eat it, Alec."

After eating time, it was Max helping out time, which she was actually happy to do. Alec was surprised. He'd expected her to complain, he hadn't thought that she might actually be bored just sitting around the fire. He shrugged as she combed the beach for a piece of driftwood to help with the digging, secretly pleased that she had volunteered to help instead of being baited into it.

Leaving little to chance, the holes they dug were deep to provide the bamboo with stability. Once the two posts were up, they suffered another minor disagreement.

"We're talking about survival, not setting up house keeping. A lean-to should work just fine."

"First of all," Max retaliated. "I know how small lean-to's are. No way am I sleeping that close to your pervy ass." Her voice rose to overtake his before he could make a smart aleck retort. "And secondly, we have no idea how long we'll be here. Better to be safe than sorry."

He shook his head. "Max, c'mon. White's probably on his way here right now."

"Oh really?" she replied, hands on hips. "It's been three days since we turned on the radio beacon. How come we haven't seen an airplane yet?"

Alec shrugged. "Maybe they're coming by boat."

Max didn't want to play devil's advocate, but years of survival on the outside had taught her to examine all options. "Or maybe they're not coming, Alec. Maybe… I dunno," she shrugged. "Maybe White had nothing to do with the shipwreck after all. Or maybe the Conclave fired White and decided to leave us stranded here, so we can kill each other ourselves." She offered him a cheeky grin.

Alec barked out a short laugh. "Yeah. Right. Ames White, cult leader on the run. Sounds like a bad sci-fi."

"Whatever the case may be," She interrupted, "we have to make plans for all eventualities. And a lean-to could never be anything more than temporary. We have to build a real structure."

"What kind of complexity are you talking about?" He questioned, looking askance at her.

"Dunno... Something... hut-like maybe?"

When he only stared incredulously at her, her eyes narrowed. "We're genetically empowered. If those Swiss Family Whatsits could do it, so can we. We should be able to knock something out in a couple of days."

"First of all, that was a movie." He pointed out. "Secondly..." He stopped in the face of her stubborn stance. "Ah hell, I don't know why I argue with you."

She beamed, her pose suddenly relaxed. "Me neither."

She was right. Say they were here for a month or so. Did he want to spend that month hunched over in a lean-to? Hell no. They stooped, etching plans in the dirt until they decided on a design that was workable. His head cocked to the side. "Y'know," he said softly. "You're actually kind of good at this planning thing."

"Manticore gave us big brains to go with all that training. Wouldn't hurt you to use yours once in a while." She teased.

His mouth dropped as he held his hand to his chest in mock affront. "You wound me, Max."

"Call 'em like I see 'em. Start digging."

By the end of the day, they had six very solid posts jutting from the ground in the shape of a hexagon and a well-deserved sense of accomplishment. The following day they began work on the flooring, using vines to secure the base to the posts a few inches above the ground. Alec had decided against using the level ground as a natural floor when he'd woken that morning to find a tarantula making its way across his throat. Max couldn't find it in her to disagree after getting a good look at the spider's smashed remains.

The floor was lashed tightly to the base before they began work on the walls. When all was said and done, the floor jutted out and away from the original posts they'd set up. Alec thought it was quaint; kind of like they had their own wraparound porch.

Still no sign of White… or any boats or airplanes for that matter. Max was surprised that she had yet to really and truly freak out. She figured that working on the hut took so much time and energy, it just hadn't all really sunk in yet. By the third day of working on the structure the last vestiges of their ordeal, late sleeping and slow movement, were gone, their bodies reacting quickly to the resupply of steady nourishment and water.

Slowly but surely the frame of the building fleshed out. As Alec hung overhead, bending and strapping poles down to make the bones of the roof, Max worked nonstop to create wall panels. She used a sharp rock to chop halfway through the thick bamboo and then snapped through the remaining half with her hands to create a door.

Alec seemed to have called permanent dibs on the knife, but she was okay with that because he was the one hauling their materials to the campsite and so needed it more often. He was having to range even farther a field now, as they depleted the stocks of bamboo near their build site. Didn't matter how much hauling he did though, she was not going to put a window in just because he wanted one.

Plus, even though Alec had chosen the straightest and smoothest shoots he could find, sometimes he had to sacrifice smoothness for size. Though bamboo was naturally very straight, without sanding it down it had a few irregularities that made a perfect watertight seal hard to come by. They could lash the bamboo to perfect ramrod lines, but that didn't stop a few pinpricks of light invading where a knot on this piece didn't line up with that piece or an indent on one piece gaped away from another... Hadn't he declared only hours ago that the few very minor, insignificant pinpricks of light she had no control over could be windows? Boy would have to deal. Who was he to question her workmanship when all he was doing was hanging from the roof like a monkey?

Jerk.

The next day, he cut a window himself. She rolled her eyes and said nothing.

When it seemed that they were only a few days away from completion, they began reinforcing the woody vines they used with long strips of wood that they had painstakingly shaved from the branches of a soft tree. With a little bit of heat and a lot of muscle, the vines and the wood stripping would be as good as any rope they could have used. Alec gave it the ultimate test around midday, jumping up and down in the middle of the floor. It held and they grinned, unconsciously coming together for a celebratory hug.

On the sixth day, they made their way back to the original beach they'd landed on by foot and made the return trip by boat. Back at the campsite, the tarp was thrown over the roofing poles and secured. Then they lay a thick layer of heavy palm and other broad leaves over it. They collapsed onto the beach near the finished product, exhausted but happy.

"Home, sweet home." Alec grinned.

Max's smile almost overtook her face. She'd never felt so accomplished before. _She_ built that. They spent the night on opposite ends of the hut, sleeping soundly.

They had planned on using the seventh day strictly for rest. Nature had other ideas, however, and dark clouds rolled over the island around noontime.

Thankfully, their new home was on the leeward side of the island, and so most of the wind was stopped by the jungle and the slight rise of the volcano. All they had to deal with was rain. And now they had a place to get out of the rain. Alec practically danced all the way from the lagoon to the hut as the first drops began to fall.

An hour later, when the rain had yet to abate, and Alec had yet to calm down, Max glared at him.

"We are so building another room."

That stopped his dancing. He stared, wounded, at her. "But we just got finished with this part!"

Max only sighed in response. Alec threw himself to the ground across from her. "Suck the joy out of everything." He muttered darkly.

"I heard that."

He smiled benignly. "Accept it as healthy criticism."

She laughed, not at all pleasantly. "You seem to be forgetting the whole reason we built this place. The fact that we're stranded on an island in the middle of nowhere!"

"So make the most of it," Alec snapped back. "If you're really the savior of the goddamn world, somehow, someway, we're going to get off this island."

"For all we know, we've been left here so that I _won't_ be able to save the world."

"Don't worry. I'm sure Logan will be happy to step up when the time comes." It was supposed to be a joke, but there was a hard edge of honesty beneath. Alec wondered if some secret Manticorian experiment had taken the control of his mouth away from him.

"Don't even start talking about Logan." Her eyes narrowed. "He's twice the man you could ever be."

"God, will you listen to yourself?" He scoffed, "You've put him so high up on that pedestal no mere mortal will ever compare to him. News flash, he's only human. I was _made_ twice the man he is. You can't even begin to compare us."

"There's more to life than running fast and looking pretty, Alec." She said softly.

Alec, who did not want to get into this right now, opted for the easy way out. He offered her a cocky grin. "So you admit that I'm prettier than him?"

"What? As if!" She snorted.

The conversation back on safe, if shaky, ground, they lapsed into a strained silence. A few minutes passed.

"I can't even begin to compare you? Jeez, Alec, arrogant much?"

"Yeah, maybe a little." His head lolled against the wall as he chuckled. "Wouldn't hurt you to flip the bitch switch to the off position once in a while. _He's twice the man you could ever be_." He mimicked.

More silence.

"Why do we do this?" She asked softly, burying her head into her knees. "We've been through a lot together. Why do we take one step forward and three steps back every time?"

Alec had a few theories on that one. None that would go over well, though, so he kept them to himself. He offered her a tight smile. "Well, how about a truce, then? Just until we get off the island." It wasn't an apology, but it was probably the best she was going to get out of him.

"Hey, I'm still trying to think of a way how this could be all your fault." She smiled. It wasn't acceptance and it wasn't an apology, but it was probably the best he was going to get out of her.

Max sighed, wishing the rain would stop. Those dark clouds seemed to have taken all of her joy and feelings of accomplishment and just squashed them, sending her straight back to reality. Why should she be happy about a stupid hut? She was stuck on an island. Stuck on an island with a man who had no idea how to communicate, for that matter. He never let you get past that happy go lucky facade, it was impossible to fight with him. As soon as things started getting deep, he threw on that bright colored I'm-always-all-right persona and before she knew it the conversation was on something totally different. Boy was a master of subterfuge. Would it hurt him to open up to her and be honest once in a while? Other than physically, that is, because she was pretty sure if he was honest with her, she'd have to pop him upside the head.

"God, we're screwed up." Max's voice was soft in the silence.

Stupid Manticore.

Billion dollar budget and they couldn't teach a few kids how to deal with each other or the outside world? Buncha whack, if you asked her.

When the rain cleared, Alec stood up and left without a word. Max watched him disappear into the jungle, equally silent. She sighed, her head dropping back into her knees. Like it or not, they were alone, together, on this island. She had to try harder.

Screwed up didn't even begin to describe it, Alec thought. They didn't really know how to deal with each other, with most people in point of fact. In uncertain waters, Max always resorted to her tough girl act and he always went back to his bright guy routine. Neither of them really knew how to be… normal. When their heads got jumbled up, they didn't go looking for comfort from people. Max had her high place, he had his alone time. It was just they way they worked. Alec was pretty sure that if Max had remained in Manticore after 2009 she'd have been put in solo ops as well.

_Wouldn't be so high and mighty, then_, he thought viciously, digging his boot into the ground. He sighed, taking a calming breath as he leaned back into the rock. He was at Waterfall #1, the first they'd found. Or maybe it was #2, now that there was a waterfall closer to their home.

Their home.

That was going to take some getting used to.

Another sigh.

Alec didn't want to admit to the possibility, but Max was right. They'd been here… what, a week?... and had yet to see a plane or a boat of any kind. Maybe they really were stuck here. Maybe Alec really was doomed to a life of Max and celibacy. That would take some getting used to.

Not that he didn't like Max. Sometimes he worried that he liked her too much, what with his way of jumping in and helping her out for very little repayment. Couldn't really remember the last time he'd heard a thanks from her. And hey! What about that time he'd gotten shot, _again_, and she'd been all, 'been there, done that.' The anger, which had been sinking down, reared its ugly head once more. Another deep breath.

Okay, so they had issues. But this tiptoeing around each other was beginning to grate on his nerves. It was hard… hard and fake. Yeah, sure, they were pretty civil most of the week, but then they'd blow up, and then it'd be back to pretending like everything was cool. Alec had already had one relationship based on a lie, and that was enough for a lifetime.

Granted, he was the one to smooth things over, the one that stopped any of their fights from escalating beyond a few harsh words. To be honest, part of him was scared.

Alec started. Scared? Scared of what? The answer seemed fairly obvious. Scared that one time a fight would go too far and things would be said that there'd be no coming back from. So he avoided it.

If he really was stuck on this island, he didn't want to be on it alone. Yeah if they had a big nuclear fight to end all fights, physically they'd be together, but emotionally? Emotionally they'd be cut off, each on their own little desert island. Say it with me; suckage.

When he finally felt right in his own mind, he headed back to camp. She'd gotten the fire going again outside of their little home. He let himself look at their craftsmanship with pride for a few moments before heading to the waterfall. He was still a little spun. Maybe a little water would clear his head up. He paused to admire the rippling surface of the pool, the glistening spray. He began pulling his shirt up over his head…

The surface of the water broke and Alec froze. Max's head appeared and then her long neck and then… hey. Woah. Where were her clothes?

She smoothed the water from her hair and face. Her eyes opened…

"Oh my god! Alec." She hunched back down into the water, covering her chest with her arms. Alec seemed too busy staring at her with a dazed expression on his face to actually say anything. Or to decide if his shirt was going up or down for that matter. Right now, it was clutched in a kind of limbo between his abdomen and his shoulders.

"Go have some more alone time!" She shouted, her face blazing. God, she'd never live this down.

Alec's face colored and he turned, practically marching away. He'd seen his share of naked women… but… gah… This was Max! Alec equated Max with an ice cube… with Victorian England (the prudish bits, not the whore houses)… with everything that was _anti_-sexuality…. Not… not bronze, glistening skin and… and breasts, and…

Cold water should clear that up in no time. Back to Waterfall #1.

"Stupid, stupid, stupid." She muttered to herself, slinking from the pool and gathering up her clothes. It usually took Alec hours to sort out his head!

When Alec finally came back from the jungle, looking like he'd jumped into a lake, Max shoved a piece of bamboo that they'd been using as a cup into his face.

"See this," She demanded, shaking the cup in his face. "New rule. If this is in front of the 'shower' do _not_ come in."

He nodded mutely. He had considered throwing something out along the lines of 'nothing I ain't seen before, sweetheart,' but the murderous expression on her face killed it before he could even draw the breath. No more was said on the subject.

Food, water, and shelter may be necessities when it comes to survival, but no more so than keeping Max happy.

* * *

End Chapter 3

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	4. Chapter 4: Melt

A/N: Yay, lots of happy dances this time! Thank you, thank you, thank you! For those of you that have reviewed for multiple chapters; you make me squeal like a fangirl who's calling to tell all her friends she has Jensen Ackles tied up in her closet…. Have I said too much:D Once again, thanks to _everyone_ for all the wonderful reviews. It really kicks my butt into gear when I read them:D

Standard disclaimers apply. Reviews celebrated. Happy dances rejoiced. (fangirl squealing optional)

* * *

Castaway 

Chapter 4: Melt

* * *

The days seemed to melt together. And as the days melted away, so did their hope of rescue. Strangely enough, as their hope dwindled, so did a lot of their animosity towards each other. If they had been in Seattle, maybe things would have stayed the same between them… but out here, they were all they had and they tried to make the most of it. It's surprisingly easy to keep a truce when you're terrified of being alone. As the days passed, they fell into a kind of routine together. Maybe it wasn't always comfortable but it was a little bit of stability in a situation that never should have come about. 

Max would wake before him and scratch another day into their little calendar, a stick that was rapidly becoming more tick marks than bark. She would enjoy the sunrise coming up over the waterfall, creating rainbows in the spray. She'd think about Seattle and Logan, Alec and breakfast, and anything else that came to mind. Alec would wake right about when she was done with her morning musings, and they'd go swimming together. They had a standing competition to see who could catch breakfast the fastest. It was more a matter of luck than speed. Or at least that's what Alec said when Max gained the lead.

Some days Alec would swim farther out, using a long, sharpened stick to go spear fishing out by the reef. He didn't do it very often because Max was positively neurotic about undertows. She'd sit on the beach "tanning" until he was safely back ashore after which she'd grump at him a few minutes while he'd just grin and present her with whatever he'd come up with. Sometimes it was a fish, sometimes a lobster, once it was a misshapen pearl. He didn't let her keep the pearl, pocketing it for a "special occasion." Max just glared at him. If he was thinking that one day they'd get off this rock and he could present it to some undeserving skank ho, how was that her problem? Let him keep his delusions. Whatev.

Lunch was usually fruit, which there was plenty of. They experimented with a few wild herbs and vegetables they came across, but most were disgusting whether raw or baked. The only exceptions to the rule were yams and wild rice, which were generally edible. Max would have liked some butter to go along with 'em, though, and made it a habit of pointing it out whenever Alec came back from the jungle with anything resembling a vegetable. Generally they stuck to fruit.

They'd explore the island a bit after lunch. That was the only time of the day they bothered with shoes. But as the days melted away, so did their brutish way of city walking, until their movements blended better with the jungle, silent and swift. Honestly, it didn't really matter whether they were stealthy or not. Who was there to track them? But it was another little game they played to wile away the hours. They got pretty good at it too, their steps quick and light, eventually giving up on shoes all together to avoid leaving tracks. And that was the reason why their fragile truce was shattered for the first and only time.

They eventually got too good. They got lost. Wander around in confusion, is this our trail or a game trail, kind of lost. They made it back home close to nightfall, unable to even look at each other, their fight had been so explosive. Max had barred Alec entry from the hut, stubbornly standing in the entranceway, arms folded across her chest. He'd glared at her and flopped down in the dirt.

It figured that it'd rain that night.

Max, who didn't fall asleep until the wee hours of the morning, had pretended to ignore him, feeling slightly triumphant about the whole matter. If he'd just apologize, she'd let him back in. He didn't apologize though, not even when the wind picked up and the rain created puddles around his huddled form. Did she feel a little guilty? Yeah, a little. But why did he have to be such a stubborn ass? If he'd just admit that it was all his fault, he'd be more than welcome to come in from the rain. He never admitted it. So she never let him in.

And when she woke up in the morning, he was gone.

When he didn't come back that day, she told herself he was a big, pouty baby and that he'd get over it. When he didn't come back the next day, she began to get worried. On the morning of the third day, she set out to find him, terrified he was lying in a ditch somewhere, mangled and half-eaten.

He'd left a little bit of a trail to begin with, a testimony to his anger. He hadn't walked away; oh no, he'd stomped. His anger must have cooled as he'd walked though because traces of his passing began lightening and then disappeared altogether. He had known she'd eventually come after him and obviously didn't want to be found. She swallowed in pain when she realized as guilt tightened her chest. Okay, so he wasn't the only stubborn ass on the island.

After an hour of helplessly searching for some mark of his passing, she sat down on a root and told herself not to cry. Taking a deep breath to calm her emotions and quell her fear, she started in realization. She could _smell_ him.

It was a faint mixture of sunshine and sand, ocean and trees, and something else unmistakably _Alec_… She knew with such surety that it was him that she nearly fell off the root in surprise. Guess being cooped up with him had unexpected consequences, his scent burned in her subconscious being one of them.

When the trail came to an end at a familiar waterfall, she shook her head in disgust. She should have known.

His damn cave.

Ducking behind the curtain of water, she peered into the depths. Nobody home. He'd definitely been here though, judging by the pile of leaves in that nook over there, the same type of leaves they used as bedding at home. So she swallowed her pride, sat down, and waited.

He ambled in a few hours later, looking completely unsurprised to see her. She wondered if he could smell her too. The thought was a little unnerving. He didn't say anything, sitting on his makeshift bed, taking a small piece of wood from his pocket and carving into it.

"Aren't you going to say something?" She asked softly when the silence became unbearable.

He didn't look up. "What do you want me to say, Max?"

Max didn't know. She wanted him to scream at her. To tell her to never act like that again. Tell her…

"You could admit that this whole thing is your fault anyway, get over it, and come home."

Old habits are hard to break. Especially when you've been sitting in a cold, damp, downright creepy cave for two hours and your partner in crime ditched you for three days without so much as a single word of explanation.

The blade stilled and his head came up. Maybe it was the water glinting off the blade, reflecting in his eyes, but she could have sworn his eyes flashed gold as his jaw clenched. His anger was so thick in the air, she was almost unnerved at the softness of his voice.

"Get the fuck out."

"Alec-"

"I said leave!" He roared, flinging the piece of wood across the cave. She flinched as it bounced close to her head.

"Alec, I just-"

She didn't get a chance to finish, because Alec had apparently decided that if she wasn't going to leave, then he would. He didn't stand so much as he _uncoiled_, every muscle tense as he came to his feet and stalked towards the opening.

Max, who was not going to let it end on this note, sprang to her feet, rushing after him. She had been planning to tackle him and sit on him 'til he saw reason.

You know what they say about the best laid plans. Never make 'em when there's a pissed off transgenic in the mix.

Alec slid out of the way only moments before she would have crashed into him. Which meant that she hurled herself out of the cave's mouth instead, straight through the waterfall, and into the pool outside.

Alec really wanted to stay mad at her.

But as she came up, sputtering for air, he couldn't help it. He burst out laughing. She glared at him, but it just didn't have the same effect when her long hair was plastered to her face. It only made him laugh harder.

"You can shut up, now." She muttered, swimming to the water's edge as he went to the ground, wheezing.

"That was so worth every day I spent out here." He howled, wiping tears of mirth from his eyes. She glared at him as she pulled herself onto the dry rocks near his feet.

It was almost too easy to topple him into the water.

"Not so funny now, are ya?" She laughed as he broke through the surface, hacking out water. Despite the pond inhalation, his good mood remained as he slogged towards the embankment. He held out a hand to her.

"Yeah right, like I'm gonna fall for that." She scoffed.

"Max," his smile disappeared. "Seriously, I just want help out of the water."

She looked mistrusting at him for a few moments before offering him her hand.

He promptly tugged her into the water. Figures. Well, two can play that game. When she didn't come up right away, he should have known. Strong arms grasped his legs, pulling him under. They both came up for air, laughing. And like that, everything was forgiven.

Nothing else was said about the incident that started the whole mess, at least not right away. They went home and watched the sunset together, sitting on the beach.

"Hey Max,"

"Yeah?"

"Never do that again."

She turned and looked at him, watched the dying light play across his face. Her gaze softened. "Never."

His arm settled across her shoulders and he pulled her close, brushing his lips lightly across her brow. Her head fell onto his shoulder and they watched the sun disappear in silence.

After that day, they really and truly were friends. It's not as though they'd had overnight lobotomies or anything; they still snapped and griped and flung caustic, sarcastic, snarky words around like they were goin' out of style. But their truce was based on more than just necessity now and they never again crossed that line.

What's more, the final bits of their routine fell into place. A little bit of sparring after exploring to work out some aggression. No fighting dirty, though, because they couldn't afford to get injured. Then some alone time.

Max usually swam or showered, sometimes walking along the beach, searching for interesting shells. Alec carved or headed into the jungle for a bout of catch-the-monkey. He hadn't caught one yet. He had caught some other wildlife, though. A small deer-like creature. Some kind of big cat that had tried to take a bite out of his hide. As of yet, no monkey… But one day! As the sun went down, they made their way back to the beach to watch the sunset together.

Max, true to her word, never barred him from the hut again. It helped that they added a room, which he knew not to go in if she was in one of her moods. Little projects ate away at their time; like the addition to their home, the short table made of bamboo that Alec surprised her with, skinning dinner so that they'd have pelts to put on their new beds, reinforcing the structure every couple of weeks… Before they knew it, three months had gone by and Max had to start a new 'calendar.'

In the third month, their first true crisis occurred.

Too be honest, Max should have known it was going to be a bad week from the get go. For starters, she'd actually fallen asleep the previous night at a decent hour. That was never a good sign. And even worse was how she'd woken up.

Hot. Sweaty. Plastered to the side of Alec.

Not a good sign. A bad, bad, baaad sign. Especially since she had no memory of getting up from her bed, crossing the room, and crawling under the furs to snuggle against the blonde transgenic.

Other than that, the day had been okay. It was only the next day, when she'd woken up once again pressed to his side, in the middle of nuzzling his neck, no less, when she realized that she could have a problem. A big problem. An 'oh shit, has it been four months since my last heat,' problem.

In typical Max fashion though, she didn't dwell on it, instead praying to god that he didn't wake as she pulled herself away and subsequently thanking god that Alec was sleeping like a rock. She tiptoed out of the room, wincing at each small creak in the bamboo beneath her. She reeeaaally hoped she had just been on this island for far too long with only one attractive male for company. I.e., she hoped she was just horny.

That notion was discarded pretty quickly when they got ready for their morning swim. He took his shirt off and suddenly every fiber of her being was focused on his abs.

Mmmm. And what nice abs they were… All that tan skin just beggin' to be touched. And those muscles… she could just _eat him up_.

"Max? You feelin' okay?" He waved a hand in front of her face, breaking her heavy gaze.

"I'm fine." She muttered distractedly, pulling herself from her thoughts. There was no WAY she had just been thinking about licking Alec from top to bottom. Oh man, she totally had been. This was so bad….

"I'm fine," She repeated with more force than was necessary when he continued to eye her suspiciously. "Just need to take a swim." When he shrugged and started to follow her she turned and snapped. "Alone." She stomped towards the water, refusing to look at him. Even his damn smell was turning her on.

Alec's nose twitched.

Alec prayed that she really was fine… Because if she went to heat out here… He shoved the thought away. Heat was one of those big 'no discussion' zones. He'd tried to bring it up during their first month (only to tell her that he would respect her wishes and make himself scarce) but she'd knocked him on his ass so fast he couldn't get it out. Hence, 'no discussion' zone.

Despite what his body was screaming at him, his brain pushed the possibility out of his consciousness. Nah, no way she was going into heat… hadn't gone into heat the whole year they'd been in Seattle, right? Nothing to worry about there.

Alec's mind, happily back in the land of denial, thought of lunch and monkeys and the possibility of combining the two. Pulling his shirt back over his head, he set out for the jungle. Oh yeah, today'd be the day he caught one of those little bastards.

It's a good thing he didn't turn and look at her, or he would have been a little unnerved. Max usually saved skinny dipping for the wee hours of the morning when Alec was asleep. It should have bothered her that he was so near and yet she was stripping down, but for some reason… not so much. Hmmm.

She sighed dreamily, slipping into the sun warmed water. She turned, watching the muscles in Alec's back bunch as he raised his shirt over his head, pouting when he pulled it down, obstructing her view. She continued to leer at him until his backside disappeared into the jungle.

And immediately jumped in surprise when he was no longer in sight.

What the hell was she doing?! Ohmigod. She did not just strip while Alec was standing right there! And proceed to ogle him no less!

He'd walked away pretty purposefully… On another monkey mission, no doubt. Good, that gave her some time… She bolted from the water, snatching up her clothes, making a mad dash for the waterfall. Must dunk self in cold water. Now. Before Alec came back. She groaned as an image of the blonde transgenic pulling his shirt on replayed in her mind, decidedly slower and somehow much sexier, with mood lighting and theme music to boot.

Lots and lots of cold water.

* * *

The screeching gave away their positions.

Everywhere.

The enemy surrounded him. The only question was… which tree to climb…

Ah hell, who cares. He could always jump from limb to limb if he picked the wrong one. He scrambled up the nearest forest monstrosity fairly easily.

Damn… no monkeys. And of course he'd chosen the one tree that had no close neighbors to leap to… Look at them all over there, mocking me. Time for a new game plan.

An hour later, prize in hand, he was unable to contain his grin. He'd had the edge today… all of his senses had been heightened, his movements fast and sure, even if his brain had been a little distracted and it'd been harder than usual to focus… So much so that the first couple of trees he'd scaled hadn't housed any monkeys at all.

He'd finally gotten smart and had took a rock with him on the final climb, his accurate throw stunning one creature when it wasn't fast enough to leap away. So what if this moment was three months in the making. He'd finally caught one of those screaming banshees! He clamped his mouth shut before a gleeful twitter could escape.

Men do not gleefully twitter, he reprimanded himself. He thumped his chest once, to reestablish his manliness, before setting off for home.

* * *

Max was a prune. A cold, shivering, sodden prune. Thankfully, the hour she'd spent in the waterfall had taken the edge off and she could think a little more clearly now. And what she was thinking was truly frightening.

Max had heard stories in the few months she'd run Terminal City. Stories of heats, of mate fights, of the savagery involved… and not always on the men's part. Yeah, the men could beat the snot out of each other trying to get at a girl, but some of the most remorseful tales came from women who'd chosen a mate that didn't want them… Transgenics, at the end of the day, were human, and so could choose to ignore their instincts, painful though it may be. If a man didn't want to mate, because he already had a special someone, or for whatever reason, generally the woman was never far gone enough to try and rape him.

Sometimes, though, things got out of hand, which was where all the stories originated from. When spurned, a female transgenic in heat sometimes settled for trying to beat the offending male into a pulp, the man too dazed by hormones and his warring emotions to take much of a stand. Girls kicked ass, even more so when they were scorned X series with an itch their chosen someone didn't want to scratch.

God. This was bad. Up unto this point, she'd had her choice of men to take home (though her choices were usually less than desirable once her cycle was over). With only one man around, and a good looking one at that, she was sure to come on to him. What if he turned her down? When the three days were over and she came out of it, would she see only hatred in his eyes? She shuddered.

Alec was all she had. She couldn't live with herself if that happened. She cleared her throat at the sudden rush of emotion. They'd been on this damn island too long, it was making her all soft…

Alec broke through the tree line with the subtlety of a drunken moose, whistling jauntily. Her head snapped around, wet hair flying, as all thought screeched to a halt, replaced by what she'd consider syrupy gloop were she in her right mind.

Oh… Alec. Alec was here. She beamed at him. How great.

She sure was in a good mood, Alec thought, a wolfish grin overtaking his face, loping towards her. Max sucked in a breath as she caught sight of his wicked smile, biting her lip as electricity shot from her fingertips to her toes. Alec staggered as the rush of hormones slammed in to him, nearly coming to his knees. He stopped dead in his tracks, swaying, sucking in a breath, his pupils dilating as he stared across the open beach at her.

Ohhh, this was not good, his brain murmured. His body told his brain to shut up.

"Maaax,-" he started and then fell silent as his cajoling voice registered in his mind. His quick grin slipped and he shifted on the balls of his feet, suddenly nervous. He hovered at the edge of the sand, too afraid of what he might do if he made even a step towards her. "Are you sure you're okay?"

Her eyes narrowed, her mouth twisting in a crooked grin so like his own. "Of course I'm okay." She rose from her crouch, all fluidity and grace. Alec swallowed.

"Max. C'mon. You're practically purring." He said warily, eyes wide, trying to will the tenseness out of his muscles. No, no, no. Do not stand up. Go sit back down. Do not walk over here.

She wasn't doing a good job of obeying his psychic directives. Alec had heard of people _slinking_ before. He'd just never seen anyone do it… until now. So not good.

It's okay. It's okay. As long as she doesn't touch me…

Alec's nostrils flared, eyes widening to saucers as one short nail meandered down his chest, leaving a trail of fire in its wake.

"I missed you," She murmured, her fingertip thankfully coming to stop at the waist of his jeans. He swallowed hard, his tongue suddenly thick in his dry mouth.

"Really?" He asked dumbly, looking down, watching as she pulled his shirt up away from his stomach. Watching as her hand splayed across his abdomen and she murmured something appreciative. Watching as her hand sunk lower, dipping into the waistband of his jeans…

"I brought you something!" His shout was almost deafening in the silence. She paused, only for a moment, but it was enough time for him to shove the bundle he'd been clutching into her hands and back away, mentally sighing in relief.

She blinked at him in confusion, looked down. And then shrieked, dropping the furry carcass into the dirt.

"Gross, Alec!"

"What? It's dinner."

Her eyes widened, unable to look away from the small form in the dirt. "But… but it's so cute!"

"You didn't have any trouble with that deer thing." He knew he shouldn't feel hurt that she was rejecting his gift, knew that it wouldn't have even been a gift if all those damn pheromones weren't cloying the air…

Her face scrunched in disgust. "That's different! Just… get rid of it." She backed away slowly, keeping her eyes on the dead monkey, too afraid to look up at her wounded cat. When she felt she was at a safe distance, she turned on her heel, making a beeline for the waterfall.

Alec frowned, looking down at the monkey in the dirt. "You better taste like chicken." He growled, before scooping it up and heading back into the jungle.

Thankfully, the first day of heat was always the easiest to control, so long as she stayed away from anything vaguely male shaped. And luckily, the only male shaped thing on the island was staying far away from her.

The second day was a little bit harder. She spent most of it under the waterfall, using every ounce of her will power to stop herself from following Alec's scent into the jungle.

The third day, she was just pissed. She either wanted to kill something, or make mad, passionate love to something. The something in both cases being Alec. Mostly, she stuck with pissed, though.

So, what, he didn't want her? What was there to not want?! She was frickin' hot! And she knew what kind of effect she had on him, had really sort of known since he'd stumbled in on her in the waterfall when they'd first gotten here and almost swallowed his tongue. So why was he avoiding her?! She told herself that she was going to find him and give him a piece of her mind! (not a piece of her ass, nope, no sir, nu-uh)

Mother Nature, the bitch, once again ruined her plans. The downpour was torrential. As she stalked in the hut, soaked, she couldn't help but think that the rain seemed intent on ruining her life. She paced the length of the hut, edgy, caged, waiting for it to let up so she could look for Alec.

When it did, she almost screamed in frustration.

The rain had washed away his scent. She had no way of tracking him now! And she knew without a doubt there was no way he'd be stupid enough to go to his stupid cave. Especially since he probably knew that she'd come looking for him.

She had no choice but to ride out her heat. It was completely and utterly miserable. She spent half the day sobbing in misery, and the other half under the water's spray, cursing Alec, Manticore, and anything else that came to mind. There were no words for her pissiness when he appeared on the fourth day.

"All clear?" He called warily from the edge of the clearing.

"If it wasn't, don't you think I'd have launched myself at you by now?" She replied scathingly, coming out of the hut.

He sighed in relief, stepping into the sunlight. Who was he to sigh in relief? Like sleeping with her would have been some kind of chore or something. Alec, catching the darkness descending around her, smiled nervously. "I come bearing bananas." He shook the bunch for emphasis, crossing the distance between them.

She glared at him for a few moments before curiosity won out. "How was the monkey?"

He grinned at her, eyes level as she was on the porch and he was in the dirt. "Tasted like chicken."

"Really?"

"No. But it wasn't bad." He shrugged, stepping up next to her, offering a banana. She took it from him with an incredulous laugh.

"I can't believe you ate a monkey." She shook her head.

Again, he shrugged, stepping inside the hut, seating himself on the ground at the table. Max toyed with the peel, seemingly engrossed. Alec sighed and pushed himself away from the table and into the wall. "Spit it out, Max."

"It's nothing… I was just… kinda wondering where you spent the last couple of days."

"At the cave, where else?"

"Are you _kidding_ me?" She exploded.

He grinned. "I figured there was no way you'd look there, because you'd think there was no way I'd be dumb enough to stay there if you were looking for me."

"Wow. That almost kind of makes sense." Her questioning tone said that no, it made no kind of sense whatsoever and he was an idiot.

"Well, you didn't find me. We did not make with the 'gettin busy.'" he paused to roll his eyes and make air qoutations, ruined slightly by the banana he held in one hand. "So it must have made some kind of sense. What else is there to say?" Another grin as he bit the end off of the banana. Even his chewing was smug.

Her expression was a strange mixture of glare and pout. He wasn't entirely sure how she pulled that off…. And why would she be upset about this, anyway?

"Max, are you _mad_ that we didn't have sex?"

"What?! NO!" She stomped over to him, throwing herself to the ground next to him and tearing the banana peel open with as much viciousness as she could muster.

"Are you sure?" He eyed her askance, "'Cause you're not acting like it."

"Sorry, it's just that-" She lapsed into silence again, the banana lowered into her lap.

"Seriously. Max. You're starting to freak me out."

"That's what I mean!" The flame in her eyes relit. "Am I that disgusting? You'd rather spend three days in a damp cave than sleep with me? I mean, I'm grateful and everything, 'cause now I don't have to kill you, but-"

"Okay." He blinked. "I see where you're goin' with this. If I had slept with you, you'd have killed me."

She nodded enthusiastically.

"But… since I didn't sleep with you that means you must be some ugly, horrible creature."

Another nod, this one more of a shamed ducking of the head than anything else.

"Women." He huffed. She couldn't help the smile.

"Yeah, Alec, you got us all figured out."

"Hey, I'm 2 for 0 today. I was right about the cave and about the cause of your split personality. Give me some credit."

She shook her head, letting out a short laugh. "Not in this lifetime."

The smile dropped as her regarded her in all seriousness. "Max, I would never, ever take advantage of you when you're like that."

A quick smile to lighten the mood. "I seem to recall that I was the one trying to take advantage of you."

"Yeah," he scratched the back of his head, "but I should have known something was up. You don't usually drool when I take off my shirt."

"HEY!"

"I'm just sayin-"

"I did _not_ drool." She said forcefully. He arched one eyebrow at her. "Okay fine. Maybe a little. But it was all mental. There was no… drippings… or anything."

His wicked grin lit up the room. He opened his mouth-

"Save it. I don't feel like hitting you right now."

He shrugged, but his smile was so self-satisfied she almost popped him anyway. The room settled into an awkward silence. Alec continued to inwardly gloat. Max toyed with the half naked banana in her lap.

"To be honest," Alec said after a few moments, in an attempt to dispel her awkwardness. "I didn't know you even went into heat. I thought maybe you won the transgenic lottery or something. No junk DNA, no heat. Seemed like a possibility since you never got shook up in Seattle."

She laughed. "I totally went into heat in Seattle."

"Like when?"

"Like four months from three days ago, for starters." When his stare remained disbelieving, she shook her head. "Don't be stupid, Alec. The name Logan ringin' any bells? The guy I can't touch? I even suspected I was going into heat, I chained myself up in the bathroom so fast, O.C. didn't know what was goin' on."

Alec smirked. "So that's why you two always caught the flu around the same time." He shook a finger at her. "I thought that was suspicious, you being all genetically empowered and everything. Figured you just got busted up in some Eyes Only gig and needed to lay low for a bit."

"Yeah, Alec. You're a quick one."

More silence.

"Just for the record," Max said softly, eyes in her lap. "I think you're kind of a good guy. Not many guys I know would just walk away when I was like that."

"Was there ever any doubt?" He asked incredulously.

"Well, yeah." She scoffed, her eyes coming up to meet his. Her gaze softened. "But not anymore."

"Fine, fine," He harrumphed, "just don't make a habit out of anything." His grin didn't quite meet his eyes.

Because there was no helping it; it was going to be a habit. An every four month habit in which, rain or shine, he'd have to spend three days running away from something he wasn't entirely sure he wanted to run away from.

Max, sensing his grimness and the total unfairness of everything, reached across the table. Her hand skimmed lightly over his for a minute, hesitant, before settling on his wrist. Alec froze.

The touch was shocking in its intimacy, for both of them. More so, because she was the one to initiate. Max was _never _the one to seek out touch, especially any kind of skin contact, _especially_ after the year she'd spent fighting the virus in Seattle. Alec fidgeted a moment, uncomfortably, before looking across at her with a pained half-grimace, half-smile on his face.

She laughed, a trifle hurt, as she pulled her hand away. "I guess I have kind of been a bitch to you in the past," Her tone was light, but it didn't disguise the pain of rejection. "Figures you'd be scared of me touching you."

He stared at her in shock, amazed that she could misread him so easily. He caught her wrist as she drew away, his eyes tracing the back of her hand as her breath caught in her throat. He painstakingly threaded his fingers through hers, lifting serious hazel eyes to gaze deeply into shocked brown. His smile was crooked but it didn't disguise the erratic pulse she could feel through his fingertips or the flicker of fear behind his eyes. It made something deep, deep inside of her melt, even as her own heart sped up to keep time with his.

* * *

End Chapter Four

* * *


	5. Chapter 5: Touch

A/N: Thank you to all my lovely, lovely reviewers!

Standard disclaimers apply. Reviews welcomed. No happy dances (on my part) in favor of more writing. :)

* * *

Castaway 

Chapter 5: Touch

* * *

The tattoo of his heartbeat against her hand was almost painful to bear. Worse still, was her own heart's reaction to his nearness. The hesitant look on his face was mirrored on hers and for a moment she considered how easy it'd be to close the paltry distance between their bodies. What it'd be like to press her mouth against his. To feel his warmth under her hands. 

Alec must have been thinking the same, because his head dipped towards her. Max couldn't help it. Her eyes fell shut, panic clawing its way up her throat.

_Too close. Too near._

She cringed.

…_Get away._

Alec stopped, scant inches from her mouth. He glanced up, looked at the pained expression on her face and sighed, backing away slowly. He couldn't help the frown, though, not even when she finally peeked at him, seemingly confused as to why he'd backed off.

_Like he'd kiss someone who was disgusted by him. _He scowled.

The temperature of the room dipped right past iciness and went straight on into frigid. Max, aware of the sudden awkwardness, tried to pull her hand from his, and then looked up in confusion when he didn't let go. He only scowled harder, holding on tightly, just because he could, and that's what she deserves. She frowned right back, giving her hand another firm yank. Abruptly his anger seemed to drain away and a mischievous light flared in his eyes.

Max had the sudden urge to duck and cover.

He didn't do anything dastardly. He didn't pull her into his lap. He didn't make any disparaging comment. Nope, he leaned over her hand and brushed a light kiss against her knuckles. Max felt the world freeze all over again as time crawled to a standstill.

That bastard.

The kiss was nothing. A rush of warm air across her hand. A caress that she had to strain to feel. It meant nothing. It _was_ nothing. But suddenly she didn't know what was up and what was down, and the whole world was tilting off its axis.

He dropped her hand abruptly. In typical Alec fashion, he retreated before she could start swinging. He didn't seem annoyed, just a little cocky and strangely, a little resigned. He ducked out of their home before she even realized that he'd gotten up. Great. Now she actually had to deal with all these thoughts... all this confusion. For some reason, though, she wasn't angry. Not about her heat. Not about holding his hand. Not even about the almost kiss that she'd narrowly escaped.

It was nothing, she repeated to herself firmly. Like if she thought it enough times, it'd suddenly be true. If it was nothing, why did it conjure images of Logan and feelings of betrayal? If it was nothing, why had she strained to feel it in the first place? Her eyes slipped shut as she let herself wallow in the despair, now that Alec was gone.

It'd been three months. She was never going to see Logan again. Alec, her partner, her comrade, her confidante, was the only human contact she'd ever again know. Why shouldn't she allow herself to touch him? To be touched by him?

_Too soon. Too fast_.

Because she didn't love him. Because she did love Logan. Because she was still holding on to that damn fairy tale dream of True Love and what it meant. True Love meant you never wanted to be touched by another man again. It meant that no other man wandered across your mind, no matter what distance you were from your Prince. True Love was perfect and pure and untouchable. And this stupid island and stupid Alec were challenging all of her stupid ideals.

Part of Max wondered if she even knew what love was. The other part scoffed because what she'd had with Logan _was_ real… Her transgenic memory recalled with perfect clarity the exact shade of blue of his eyes, the way his mouth felt as it slanted over hers, the warmth of his smile… But somehow it wasn't enough to fight the desperation of knowing she'd never see him again. Nor was it enough to stop the memory of only moments before; of Alec's shallow breath, inches from her face, or of the warmth of his lips grazing across her skin.

It would be _so_ easy to hate Alec right now.

But there'd been a vulnerability in his eyes. A nakedness and a raw appeal to humanity that had echoed in her own soul. And a part of her really wished he'd gone through with it, that he'd have closed those few inches and kissed her until she couldn't remember her own name, much less Logan's. The thought made her feel guilty. But at the same time, she couldn't help it. Because she was lonely. Because she was scared of losing herself out here. Because she wanted comfort. Because she wanted to feel something, _anything_, other than the terrible sense of loss and isolation that haunted her waking hours. She flung the uneaten banana across the room as the guilt and the loss and the frustration welled together into a symphony of pain she couldn't push back down. The first sob was wrenched from her chest as she stalked to the bedroom. The second as she threw herself on her furs, unable to stop the flow of tears.

She felt so… helpless.

Max _hated_ feeling helpless.

_Why was everything always so damn complicated?_

Alec, at that moment, was wondering the exact same thing. He eased himself onto the beach, his eyes searching the horizon. As if there was some kind of answer out there.

A little handholding and Max looked like it was the end of the world... Way to destroy a guy's ego. Okay, so he'd almost done something monumentally stupid and kissed her. Big deal.

He sighed. Yeah, it had been kind of a big deal, actually. Because this was Max he was talking about; Mrs. Hands Off, herself. He should have known better. But for a moment, she had looked so damn inviting.

The memory of her cringe made him wince and he stopped his thoughts from progressing any further down that path. He thought instead of their impromptu game of tug-of-war, and of the kiss he'd brushed across her knuckles just to be an ass. It was decidedly more platonic than what he'd originally intended, but it was still way too far inside of Max's comfort zone for her to be able to handle. And true to form, she'd freaked, her eyes so wide he wondered how they stayed in her head.

Alec frowned.

_Did _he have feelings for Max?

There was none of the tenderness that he had felt for Rachel when he thought of Max. He didn't feel like he had to protect her from the world. Sometimes, Alec thought it was his job to protect the world from Max, or at least from her anger, seeing as how it was always directed at him. He didn't feel like writing her any poetry… And that's what love is all about, right? The warm, squishy feelings. Like the ones he'd had with Rachel. The only thing warm and squishy when it came to his feelings for Max was the knowledge of how his head would feel when he was done banging it into a wall. Warm and squishy.

Hell, come to think of it, it might be more rewarding to brain himself on a wall then talk to her when she was in one of her moods. Might even be better to talk to the damn thing than to her. At least when you talk to an inanimate object, you know its response will always be the same. With Max, you never knew what she was going to blindside you with. One day she'd look at you like you were scum, and the next she'd focus on you like you were the only man on earth and she'd saved all of her compassion for you. The girl was downright confusing.

He dug long fingers into the warm sand distractedly. Max had been right, all those weeks ago. One step forward. Three steps back.

The irony of their situation was not lost on Alec. Of all the people in the world to be stranded on a deserted island, it just _had to be them_. Another cruel jest in the whirlwind of drama that was Maxie's life, which, once again, he'd gotten swept up in. It was a little amusing, though, and he let a small smirk grace his face.

The girl was now stuck on an island with the one person she couldn't easily classify. Not family. Not one of her little projects. Their relationship was a little bit too edgy to always be friendly, but they weren't quite enemies, either. Not lovers, in any sense of the word. But connected, somehow. His smirk fell away at the thought and he sighed.

His feelings for Max were a gaseous, nebulous swirl of confusion. Try to pick one out of the crowd, and another immediately let itself be known, only then to slip away back into obscurity. He didn't know what the hell he felt for her. The only thing he knew was that on any given day, what he did feel for her, he felt passionately; whether it was annoyance, lust, hatred, concern, or any of the other emotions that reared their damning heads when she was around.

And now he was kind of thrown for a loop, because he had a feeling Max was just as confused as he was. He had always sort of thought that underneath her friendly facade, she sort of despised him. But he'd seen the guilt in her eyes when he'd drawn his mouth away from her knuckles, and it led him to believe that maybe she felt more for him than she usually let on.

But it's not as if he was asking anything of her (in part because he wasn't sure what he wanted from her). Well, except for maybe the comfort of a little human contact from time to time. More than just a punch to the gut during their sparring, more than a half embrace once every couple of weeks.

And with that, Alec came to the heart of his annoyance.

He'd been fine ignoring his need for touch, but her heat had shattered everything. As her nails had raked across his abdomen, he'd been struck by not only how _unbelievably_ horny he was, but by how much he missed just feeling someone's skin against his. And he'd finally given in to his desire, let himself reach out to her, for only a moment, only to be chased away by the sting of rejection. He felt like the world's number one jackass.

Why does touch matter so much? What was it about skin and all those little bundles of nerves beneath that was so damn important? Why do humans crave contact; why don't they do they well without it? Even at Manticore, away from the eyes of the handlers, there'd been camaraderie among the little soldiers. Max's unit hadn't exactly held a monopoly on familial feelings. There was something distinctly human about reaching out to someone in a time of need. And Alec, who lived his life in fear of becoming his twin, was desperate for anything that would let him hold on to his humanity in this primitive setting. He felt like every day the damn island was ripping a little bit more of his soul away.

Already, Alec and Max weren't speaking quite as often as when they'd first gotten here, except for the verbal sparring that came as naturally as breathing and the occasional heart to heart. Honestly, it was just easier for them to just look at each other and get the general idea of what the other was thinking. What was there to talk about? Hey, did you see that new piece of driftwood over there? Lame.

He didn't move like a city dweller anymore. There was something distinctly more fluid about his movements now. He hadn't even realized it until Max had pointed it out. He hadn't worn shoes in weeks, had taken to flitting through the trees like the jungle cat his mind sometimes purred it was. Something deep within him recognized the call of the wild, of letting it all go, and that something terrified him. And Max recognized it too, if the occasional haunted look he caught on her face had anything to say about it.

He took a deep breath, stabilizing his nerves. _Stop freaking out._ He was still a man. Still didn't have any real desire to run starkers through the jungle or rip anything apart. He knew his fear of really and truly losing himself out here was irrational but hey, that's another thing about being human. Nobody's perfect.

He groaned. Jeez. He'd gotten a little lonely, a little frightened of losing his humanity, and had tried to lay one on Max? When did he lose his mind? More importantly how did he get it back, because the urge to reach out and touch Max was still there inside of him.

He smiled tightly as a shadow loomed over him.

"What'cha thinkin' about?" She asked, her voice soft.

"You." He answered honestly. "Me. Us. This island." He knew he'd given her pause when she remained silent behind him.

She hadn't been expecting the honesty. She hesitated for a moment before coming down to sit next to him in the sand. "What about it?"

His eyes flicked towards her, took in the puffiness around her eyes, the redness around her nostrils. "You ever get lonely?" Dumb question. Girl had just been crying, hadn't she? Of course she was lonely.

She shrugged. "You're here."

"Nah. I mean like for O.C., for Sketchy. For anyone other than me." He glanced away from her. Max wondered, not for the first time, if Alec liked pain. If he wanted to hear the truth, that yeah, sometimes she'd rather be here with someone else. It didn't stop her from being honest, though. She had a feeling he would have known if she sugar coated the truth.

Her smile was small and not without irony. "That goes without saying."

"I miss people." He said in way of agreement, not as upset as she'd thought he'd be. He actually seemed a little grateful, maybe because he was feeling the same way. "Different opinions. Different personalities."

"Different warm bodies every other night?" She teased, her tone deceptively light.

"Even that." He did not share her smile. He turned to look at her in perfect candor. "Don't you?"

She shifted uncomfortably. "I don't-"

"I'm not talking about sex, Max." His hand came up and rested lightly against her shoulder. "I'm talking about touching anyone, anytime, just because you feel like it." He paused, "Within reason, anyway. Not little ole grannies in the supermarket or anything." She smiled at his cocky grin, because that was just so _Alec_.

"You're talking to the wrong person about that." She shrugged, trying to ignore how uncomfortable she was under his hand. "Virus, remember?"

He let out a low laugh, his hand falling from her shoulder to slide lightly against the length of her arm, well aware of the goosebumps that blossomed across her flesh. He smiled slightly at her reaction and let his hand drop, his fingers once again digging into the dirt absentmindedly.

"Not even talking about romance, here." He said distractedly, his eyes back on the horizon as memories assaulted him. "I mean like… getting a hug from Joshua, even if you don't want one. Punchin' Sketchy in the arm because he's got a bit of a wise ass in him. Throwing O.C. over your shoulder 'cause you're superman."

"What? When did you-"

He waved the question away. "Long story. You weren't there that day. Something with Eyes Only, I think."

She frowned, drawing her knees up to her body. Sometimes she forgot that Alec had become really good friends with _her_ friends. She'd have loved to see O.C.'s face when that happened, or the smackdown that had undoubtedly followed shortly afterwards. Nostalgia churned her stomach.

"Yeah, I miss it." Her face twisted. "Who wouldn't? I miss my friends. I miss people; any people. I miss the sounds of the city; the honking, and the shouting, and the cursing. I even miss the smell, y'know?" She paused and let out a short laugh. "Hell, some days I even miss Normal."

He laughed, like he didn't quite believe her. She shrugged, smiling lightly because she hadn't quite meant it. The Normal part, anyways.

"Good ole' Reagan Ronald." Alec leaned back, his weight on his wrists. "Probably cried the day he found out we were missing."

Max snorted. "That _you_ were missing, you mean."

The fell into a comfortable silence, watching the waves lap at the shoreline.

"You know," Max said softly, unable to look at him. "You don't have to be scared of touching me. I'm not gonna break, or anything."

When he didn't respond, she ended up looking across at him anyway. He arched one eyebrow, as if to say, 'oh yeah?' Secretly he was a little startled. He'd always thought that of the two of them, _he_ was the insightful one.

"What? I wouldn't." She insisted.

"Max, we held hands for like a minute and you looked like you either wanted to pass out, run away, or stomp me into the ground."

She laughed because it had been a combination of all three. Her laugh was short because sometimes it was downright infuriating how easily he could read her. Her laugh was sad, because she was as lonely as he was and just as aware of how neurotic she could be about contact.

"Look, I'm not giving you free reign to put your pervy hands all over me."

He grinned. "Hey, if anyone here has pervy hands-"

"Shut up. And I'm _not_ saying you can ever put your face that close to mine again." She paused and her voice lost some its edge. "I'm just saying you don't have to always hold yourself outside of my personal bubble, or whatever. Okay?"

She looked up and watched in a mixture of annoyance and fascination as his tongue caught between his teeth. "Really?" His voice had a menacing edge that sent a crackle of electricity down her spine. Suddenly, everything was back into that surreal haze of earlier and she struggled to regain a level head.

She rolled her eyes. "I don't know why I bother," She huffed, standing up, only to come crashing back down when a vice gripped her wrist and pulled. The vice turned out to be Alec's hand and they both toppled into the sand as she fell into him, landing half on his chest, her legs curled to his side.

She looked up, her breath catching, her brain shutting down, his face too close for comfort for the second time that day. The moment, not that it was a moment, was ruined when Alec's eyes lit up and his hands trailed slowly down her back. Okay, so maybe it was a moment, and now it was way too intense.

"Am I inside your personal bubble yet?" He asked softly, his hands coming to rest at the small of her back. She almost wished he'd flash that wicked grin so she could pretend like this wasn't affecting her.

And then he did, and suddenly she was pissed.

Max pushed herself up to look searchingly into his eyes, more then a little exasperated. "You know, I'm beginning to think that you're a little scared of me."

He frowned, abruptly shoving her off his body, sitting back up. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"I know you're just as lonely as I am." She snapped, coming to rest upon her knees. "I know you miss just _feeling_ another person. Because I do to, damn it. But why'd you even bring it up if you're just gonna act like it doesn't matter to you? Like it's some big joke? You're just as freaked as I am. Why can't you be honest about it? Why do you always have to push me away when it gets too serious?"

"Like you don't do the same thing," He replied, an edge of spite to his voice. She only stared rebelliously at him.

He sighed and turned to look thoughtfully at her. "If I didn't treat it like a joke, Max, you wouldn't be able to handle it. You already proved that when you freaked out."

She didn't have anything to say to that. She could have pointed out that he'd come inches away from kissing her in the hut and that made the situation way different than the thought of a little handholding. But the near miss kiss made her too uncomfortable; she couldn't bring it up. Nor did she get up and leave, like he thought she would, only sat back into the sand, drawing her knees up close to her body.

The waves were lapping at their toes now. Alec pushed his feet into the wet sand, watched the water fill the imprint of his toes and then rush away. He wished the waves would take all these damn _feelings_ with them.

"So I miss people." He said into the silence, startling Max. She turned to look at him. "And I even miss just being able to reach out and touch someone. But you and I, we've never been… like that…" His voice proclaimed how uncomfortable about all this he was, as he tried to explain. "All touchy feely and crap… it's just-"

"It's weird." She agreed, resting her chin on her knees. She glanced at him out of the corner of her eye, watched him watching her. When she spoke again, her voice was soft, resigned. "But at the same time, it's like you want to prove you exist, that you're still alive... and that you still matter to _someone_." Her eyes moved back to the coastline as his gaze became too much to handle. "What? I'm human too."

He shrugged, smiling. "That's debatable." He ducked away when her hand came up to pop him. "Hey! I was just telling it like it is. There's more than just evolved monkey in that gene pool of yours."

She snorted. "Yeah, yeah, smart guy. You're the one that eats your ancestors."

"Distant relations, Max. And I maintain that the monkey tasted okay."

"Just okay?"

He grinned at her. "Why, you getting tired of fish, yet?"

She shook her head. "Nope."

His smile broadened. "Give it another three months. You'll get sick of seafood eventually."

Rather than become depressed at the possibility, she let herself roll with their banter. "So go catch something else small and furry." Her eyes lit up. "Or maybe something feathery. What I wouldn't give for some chicken." Her eyes rolled up into her head in mock ecstasy.

Alec sucked in his lip, eyes gleaming at her positively _delightful_ expression. She opened her eyes, catching him in his stare. Typical Alec, he didn't even pretend like he was ashamed, just smirked and let all those dirty little thoughts play across his face for her to see. She shook her head, shoving him away lightly. Once again, he'd managed to totally distract her from their original conversation. He was skilled, she'd give him that.

"So," Alec said slowly, a teasing light warming his eyes. "What hour does this Maxie hug factory we're talkin' about open up?"

One eyebrow lifted in amusement. "You ever call it that again, it'll shut down for good."

* * *

Time crept onward. A week passed, and then two, and then more. It was a slow process, overcoming their barriers. Alec usually avoided the issue, and Max continued to think that part of Alec really _was_ scared of her. But some days, Max could feel the thick melancholy rolling over him like a black fog and knew at some point he'd reach out for her. It took some getting used to, but it got easier as time went on. She never initiated, no, but she didn't bristle when he came up behind her, holding her to his chest. She didn't rant when he'd look sideways at her and lean over to smooth her hair down, sometimes letting his hand linger a little longer than necessary. She let herself smile at him when he'd come back from a swim and flop into the sand next to her, his arm draped across her stomach. It was easy to not pull away when she could read the gloomy distraction on his face. Sometimes she wondered if he was even aware of what he was doing. 

Her bad days were a little bit different, though. She avoided him altogether. It was easier that way. On her bad days, sometimes he avoided her right back, for which she was grateful. But some days he'd climb to the top of the waterfall and sit next to her. Some days his arm would fall across her shoulder. Some days he'd pull her into his chest and they'd fall back into the dirt and look up at the sky and think about everything and nothing. And she was grateful for that too.

It was such a gradual process, she didn't even realize when the barrier was gone completely. That his hands could glide across her skin on a good as well as a bad day. That the quick flash of fear and panic no longer showed in his eyes when he reached for her. That not only did she hardly notice, she didn't mind, and actually took a little bit of comfort in it. It became quite obvious how much the island had changed them, though, when he came bearing lunch one day, lunch that happened to be decidedly bird shaped.

She'd laughed in happiness and launched herself at him. His free hand swung up, catching her waist easily as her legs wrapped around his frame. "You have _nooo_ idea how sick I was of fish," She'd laughed, squeezing his shoulders tightly.

"Who are you and what have you done with Max?" He'd looked at her in confusion. Just because he'd gotten better about touching her didn't mean that she'd ever done anything other than tolerate it. He could count on one hand the amount of time she had willingly initiated anything other than some sort of beatdown. To say that her exuberance came out of left field would be an understatement.

She rolled her eyes and pursed her lips, sliding down his frame, back to her feet. "Whatever, just let me at that bird." He handed it over, watching her in bemusement as she practically danced her way back to the fire. It wasn't even remotely time for her heat, so he knew Max was operating on all her circuits. Who knew that one meal would have such a dramatic effect on her mood? If he had, he'd have gotten her a damn bird weeks ago.

* * *

"Seriously, Alec. Stop bringing birds back for lunch. Can't you go get a monkey or something?" She groused. 

"What do you mean?" Alec asked innocently.

"We've had parrot, or whatever these things are, every day for a week."

"Really?" He asked, feigning shock. "I hadn't noticed."

"Yeah right," She muttered. Jeez, you give a guy one little hug and suddenly he gets all desperate and needy on you.

"Whatever. You don't want what I got, go catch your own lunch." He grinned, tramping towards the fire pit.

Okay, so not that desperate or needy, apparently. "Yeah right," she scoffed. "First one to the ground had lunch duty for three weeks. You're barely on week two, boy."

His smile was positively devilish. "Get used to bird, sweetheart."

"Don't call me that," She grumbled. This was the last time she ever staked her lunch time variety on a stupid bet. He was just mad 'cause she'd knocked him on his ass faster. She had more practice with dropping him to the floor, so he really shouldn't have placed the wager in the first place. Now he was just being vindictive.

She glanced across the distance, taking in his bent form. And she couldn't help but think that a part of him was just bringing back birds to try and make her happy. She discarded the thought the next day when he brought another feathered friend to the table. Nope. Just being a vindictive ass.

* * *

It wasn't until a month and a half after her heat when the thought occurred to her. She'd been so distracted by learning how to be held by Alec, that she hadn't even realized it 'til now. 

"Alec?"

"Hmmm?" His eyelids barely flickered. Too comfortable. Warm sun, warm sand. Nice.

"Why didn't you just turn me down?"

His eyes shot open and looked at her warily, "What are you talking about?"

"I'd believe you if you didn't look so guilty." She snarked, rolling to her side and looking across at him. "I'm talking about my heat. Why'd you run away? Why didn't you just turn me down?"

His eyes drifted back close, his smile lazy. "Didn't want to get beaten into a pulp for resisting the bitchiest X-5 on earth."

She pursed her lips, a look of thoughtfulness crossing her features. _Liar_.

She let the subject drop. At least for the day. She needed to regroup and decide on her next plan of attack. It came the next day.

"But you could have just turned me down. Other X-5's have turned down females in heat before." She insisted.

"Seriously, Max. I like my ass too much to have it handed to me." He quipped, turning back to the fish in front of him, hoping that she'd let that be the end of it.

That night, her voice drifted from her pallet, just as he'd been about to drop off to sleep.

"I mean, running away? That was kind of unnecessary."

Alec's groan filled the room, flopping to his back and flinging an arm over his eyes. "Max, why are you obsessing about this? It's almost midnight, go stare at the moon or something."

"We both know it's a new moon." Her voice was almost petulant.

His voice was bright, like he was talking to a child. What'd she expect when she sounded like that? "Well, gee, Maxie, why don't you go outside anyway. Maybe if you go look hard enough, you'll find it." A slight pause. "I'll stay here."

His head turned and he looked at her, his eyes picking out her still form easily in the darkness. He was startled to find that she was looking directly back at him.

"Stop avoiding the issue and answer the damn question."

"Because I'm not that good of a guy, Max." He exploded, throwing himself back into his furs.

He could feel her smugness from across the room. "So you did want to sleep with me."

"Max."

"Yeah?"

"You were right. I know nothing about women. Now shut the hell up so I can go to sleep."

He resisted the urge to shriek when he woke the next morning to find her eyes boring into his.

"If you wanted to sleep with me, why didn't you stay?"

"Whazzit-" He blinked blearily, shaking sleep away.

Max fell back onto her haunches, waiting for him to catch up. Sharpness soon filled his eyes as he pushed himself to a seated position, the previous night's conversation returning to him.

"I'm not a good guy," He repeated his earlier argument, and then amended it slightly. "But I'm not a bad guy either. I told you I wouldn't take advantage of you when you're like that. I didn't have a lot of choice in the matter."

Her brown eyes were intense, mesmerizing. "And yet instead of turning me down, instead of _telling_ me you didn't want me, you took off running."

"Max," he shook his head, realizing that she wouldn't drop it until he came clean. "So you heard a few stories around T.C. before we left, I get that. Do you know how rare it was for a guy to actually turn down a girl in heat? It only happened a handful of times."

He paused, glancing across at her to see if she was catching on. "You really have to mean a refusal for it to count, Max." His eyes gleamed, and he couldn't actually believe he was admitting this to her. "It would have been physically impossible for me to turn you down. If I'd stayed, your three days of heat would have been as far from platonic as humanly possible. Or as inhumanly possible." He fell silent once more and she almost laughed at the intense look of thoughtfulness that crossed his features. "Yeah, not sure how that one works."

She grinned and reached out a hand to ruffle his hair, before coming to her feet. He glared at her, smoothing down his shaggy locks. _Note to self, get Max to cut hair for me. And if we ever get off this island; look for psychiatrist for Max. _

Max beamed, trekking out to the beach, curiosity finally satisfied. And strangely, feeling pretty good about herself, as well.

* * *

Rescue was a dim possibility they hardly even considered anymore. Despite that, they had more good days than bad, now. Usually, anyway. 

Alec woke one day, far earlier than usual. The smell of early morning rain pervaded the air and her pain radiated to him from across the room. He sleepily dragged himself from his bunk and shuffled over to hers, collapsing, barely half-awake.

"What'sit, Max? Goin' on?" His words were almost nonsensical as he slumped against the wall next to her, awkwardly patting her hand. Her smile was bleak and wavered slightly through the tears.

"It's day one hundred and eighty four." She replied softly, looking down at their calendar in her hand, the soft wood with one hundred and eighty four tick marks scratched into its surface. She'd counted twice, just to be sure.

"So?" he mumbled, brushing her long hair away from his face, pressed a sleepy kiss to her shoulder, his ears pricking slightly as the thrum of her heartbeat picked up. Its significance was lost on him. He was fading fast.

"Happy New Year, Alec." Her whisper was soft and sad in the darkness.

"Thanks," He murmured, falling into her pallet, asleep before his head even touched her makeshift pillow of fur and feather.

She rolled her eyes, smiling slightly. She crawled away from him, swung his legs the rest of the way onto her bed. Thought of moving to his bunk. Settled in next to him, instead. Gasped when his arm automatically came up around her and he nuzzled against her barcode, murmuring something sleepy and unintelligible against her skin.

Her soft sigh startled him awake as the sun made its appearance. He smiled slightly into her hair, burrowed tighter into the warmth of her back, his eyes beginning to drift back close. Waitaminute… His eyes shot open and he flung herself from her bed like it was on fire. She resisted the urge to cackle in glee at his shocked expression, smiling instead.

"What? Max? Heat? What?" His head looked around the room, eyes wide and dazed. His head whipped back towards her, glanced away to focus on anything _but_ her. She was watching him from the bed, amusement gleaming in her eyes. Why wasn't she kicking his ass?

"Relax, genius." She shot him a disparaging look. "It's still another month 'til my heat."

"Oh, good." He said dumbly, hoping she wouldn't catch on to the fact that-

"Wait a minute. Heat? What does waking up next to me have anything to do with my heat?"

"You know…" He waved a hand. When she folded her arms across her chest, fixing him with an obtuse glare, he sighed, running a hand through his hair. "Last time you went into heat, you climbed into bed with me-"

Her face went slack with shock. "You KNEW?!"

His wide grin was a pleasant cover for his sudden defensiveness. "Well, I could kind of smell you when I woke up. Just didn't know the significance of it, or anything."

"That is so embarrassing." She muttered, looking away from him. Alec breathed a sigh of relief. Ass kicking averted.

Mostly, anyway. She smacked him around a little bit harder in their sparring session than she usually did. He knew her moodiness wasn't just because she'd been discovered in her previous nighttime heat adventures, though. She'd been dour for most of the day, far more waspish than usual.

When she took another swipe at him, far after they'd called a time out, he caught her punch, pulled her in, held her wrists behind her back. Her face was pressed into his chest, her struggles far from dignified.

"I swear to God, if you don't let me go, I'll bite you." Her voice was muffled against his chest.

He grinned down at the top of her head. "Tempting."

Her chin came up defiantly, eyebrow arching. Oh crap, she was serious. He let go of her quickly, taking a step back.

"What's wrong with you today?" He asked, exasperated.

Her head cocked to the side as she fixed him with a questioning gaze. "You really were out of it last night, weren't you?"

"Well, yeah." He exclaimed, as if it was obvious. "Judging by the how I don't _remember it_, and all."

"It's New Years Day, Alec."

He leaned back into the heels of his feet, hands looping into the waist of his jeans. "Is that so?"

"Yeah." She looked down.

When she didn't elaborate, he sighed. "And your point would be…"

"New Year's Day! We could be at Crash, celebrating with friends." She threw up her hands. "We could be knockin' back the champagne!"

"Please," he scoffed. "Normal didn't let us have it off last year, why would this year be any different... Providing we would even be allowed back to work at Jam Pony after you blew our cover with your little hoverdrone stunt..."

Alec didn't voice the other thoughts swirling in his consciousness. Sometimes Max seemed to forget that they hadn't been talking much back in Seattle. And when they had, it was usually only because of transgenics' rights and rescues. If they would have hung out on New Year's it'd probably only have been because he'd been invited by her friends, not by her. Funny how that thought hurt him a little bit, now.

"Could have headed into the city after work," She continued, musing aloud. "Some time at Crash, then a little bit of some pre-Pulse wine…" She trailed off.

"Still not seeing where you're going with this." He muttered, his brows furrowing like he'd suddenly found something to be very angry about.

Max sighed. Sometimes she forgot that Alec had only had a year outside of Manticore before they'd gotten stuck here. Figures he wouldn't find much significance in a holiday that didn't involve presents, candy, or scantily clad women. Max had always liked New Year's. It heralded another year she hadn't been caught by Manticore. It meant another year of freedom and opportunity.

"Of all the holidays to go mental about, she chooses the one that most people spend hungover," she heard him mutter. He rolled his eyes, turning to walk away. She controlled the urge to trip him as he stalked off, but only just barely.

After that, his mood was downright black.

When he hadn't said anything in over an hour, she finally turned and snapped, "What the hell is your problem?"

"You're the one who woke up all bugged 'cause it's New Years," he sniped back.

"Yeah, and I was getting over it until something crawled up your ass and died." She glared.

He paused. "That's the best you could come up with?"

"Just tell me what's wrong, Alec." She sighed, moving towards him. She stopped, hurt, when he flinched away.

"Nothing's wrong." His smile sickened her. He must have realized because he swung away from her swipe just in time, his hands coming up defensively. He bounced on the balls of his feet, his sneer hurting her more than it should have. "Aww, Maxie wants to play?"

Her glare became lethal. "Bring it, pretty boy."

She ducked out of the way of the blow, her hard shove sending him to a knee. "You wanna tell me what's goin' on it that head of yours?" She asked, circling his bent form. His smile was grim as he kicked backwards, hitting her hard in the gut. She doubled over, clutching at her stomach as he came to his feet.

"Not really." His said darkly. She glared up at him, her arms dropping from her stomach as she suddenly rushed him. He blurred out of the way, grabbing one of her wrists hard and flinging her to the ground.

Deja vu hit hard as she looked up at him, looming over her fallen form. He must have felt the same, because he backed away, giving her a moment to spring to her feet. Her eyes were narrowed, but all of the fight seemed to have left him. Now, he seemed almost... forlorn. Her foot hit him solidly in the chest, sending him crashing to his butt. Doesn't matter how unhappy he looks right now, payback's a bitch and he'd had it comin'.

"Max," he whined.

"Alec," she mimicked.

He rolled his eyes, flopping back into the sand, preferring to look at the sky, the clouds, at anything other than her.

He squinted as she filled his vision, backlit by the noon sun.

"Max, you're blocking my rays."

"You're tan enough," She said flippantly, coming down to crouch next to him. He knew she was waiting for an explanation.

"You never explained why you were in a bad mood, either." He muttered.

"Uh, yeah, I did." She replied snarkily. "Lack of friendage and alcohol, remember? Being stuck on an island on a day that's supposed to represent new opportunities. I thought that would be fairly obvious."

He scowled at her, suddenly pissy again. "_What is your problem_?" She hissed.

"Is it so bad to be stuck with me?" He growled. "Come on, we've been here six months, and you're still wishing you could have spent the night sipping wine with Logan?"

Wait. What?

"That's not what I-"

"Save it. Seems fairly obvious to me." His eyes flicked away from her, his obvious nonchalance telling her he wasn't nonchalant at all.

"Alec… are you jealous?" She tried really hard to control the mirth. She really did. Some of it leaked out anyway.

He rolled his eyes, simultaneously rolling away from her, coming to his knees.

The mirth fell away. "Oh my god, you are."

"I am not." He snapped, pushing himself to his feet.

"Oh really?" She followed him up, her look telling him she obviously didn't believe him.

"Hey, I want off this island just as bad as you do."

"What's that got to do with anything? Don't change the subject." She persisted, following him back to their home. He stopped so abruptly, she walked right into him, stumbling a bit as she fall back into her heels.

He didn't turn and look at her. "I get that you don't want to be here. I get that sometimes you'd rather be with anyone other than me." His tone was flat. "Sometimes, I feel the same way. But I don't rub it in your face and I'd like it if you wouldn't do it to me."

"Did I _say_ that?" She shouted as he began walking away once more. He stopped, throwing her a blank look over his shoulder. "No. I didn't. Stop putting words in my mouth." She scowled at him one last time, before turning and stomping back towards the shoreline. Ugh. _Men_.

When Alec came in for the night, Max was in his bed. She was clothed, of course, and the 'speak and die' look she shot at him suppressed any desire he might have to leer at her or make a smart ass remark. He leaned in the doorway, waiting for her to make the first move.

"This isn't what you think it is," She said obtusely, leaning back into the wall, her arms folded across her chest. After all, she was still a little mad at him.

"Tell me what I think it is, then." His tone gave away nothing.

"I just-" Her voice failed. She tried again. "Just for tonight, I need-" Her arms spread wide, a testimony to her confusion. She couldn't finish the sentence. It was New Year's Day. She was a thousand miles from home. She just needed something to hold on to. And she hated it when they fought. And she thought that maybe he was hurting just as badly as she was. And last night had been... nice.

Don't make a big deal about this, his mind warned. He shrugged, like finding her in his bed was a common occurrence. He pulled his shirt up over his head, discarding it in the corner as he walked towards her. She scooted away from the wall, away from him, as he lay himself down. She'd have thought he was oblivious to her presence if it weren't for the fact she could feel the nervous energy radiating off his tense form. He stared hard at the poles of the roof and the heavy palm leaves above.

Max, by far the stiffer of the two, forced her muscles to relax. Forced herself to move back into him. Forced her heart rate to remain even, even when he finally rolled to his side and draped his arm over her.

She couldn't make herself squelch the sigh as his warmth enveloped her. Couldn't stop herself from tracing the back of his large tanned hand with her smaller fingers.

"Hey Max?" he mumbled against her hair. She nodded slightly, waiting for him to continue. He cleared his throat, licked his suddenly dry lips. Looked down at the top of her head and then looked away, before finally muttering in embarrassment, "You're kind of my best friend."

"Yeah," She smiled softly, her fingers tangling with his.

"Max?"

"Hmm?"

"Happy New Year."

She snuggled back into his warm embrace. "Yeah. You too, Alec."

* * *

End Chapter 5

* * *


	6. Chapter 6: Torture

A/N: Like always, reviewers rock my socks. Thanks so much! Sorry this one took so long. By far, it's been the hardest to write. I edited and rewrote countless times, at one point scrapping 10 pages of fluff. Think of it this way, if I don't update right away, it's not because I'm not working on it (cuz I start working on the next chapter as soon as I post) it's because I'm trying to give you the best chapter that I can produce.

Standard disclaimers apply. Reviews … Happy Dances… eh? Who needs 'em…

MEEEEEEEEE, that's who!! SO DO IT! Bwaha (x2).

* * *

Castaway 

Chapter 6: Torture

* * *

It goes without saying that she did not spend every night in his arms. Some nights they detested each other so damn much, they couldn't even think about it. Other nights, even if she wanted to lie next to him, she couldn't. As comforting as his embrace could be, it didn't change the fact that she only needed somewhere between one and four hours of sleep. 

So, whether it was because of transgenic stubbornness or because of a whacked out gene pool, she couldn't always be there with him. But sometimes she could. Sometimes he'd drop off and she'd be there. Sometimes he'd wake up and she'd be there. Sometimes it was both and sometimes it was neither. He knew it was her nature, so he didn't let it bug him. At least not too much.

It bugged the crap out of her. She didn't need for him to understand her. She didn't need for him to accept all the little freaky things Manticore had forced upon her… Like the way he'd accepted what she'd done to Ben… Like the way he accepted she only needed an hour of sleep, got a little crazy every four months, and was far more volatile than ordinary females. She didn't need or even want any of that, but that he would just give it to her without even a little bit of explanatory discussion… It was just downright maddening.

Max sighed and looked across the room at his slumbering form.

Sometimes it sucked being nocturnal.

Alec, on average, had a seventeen hour day. Compared to Max's twenty two hours. That was a whole lot of time with nothing to do. Dark outside. No one to talk to. Even the damn animals were asleep, so it's not like she could go out hunting for the next day's lunch (She could, she just didn't want to). Really, all she got out of her damn shark DNA was twice as much time to think. Which is where the suckage came in. Big time.

Especially since her thoughts were becoming downright traitorous.

Honestly, she didn't want her mind to be on Alec quite as much as it was. But hey, only other person here, so she didn't have much say in the matter. What was that syndrome called? Munchausen's? No, that's when people got their kids sick on purpose…

Stockholm syndrome! That was it. Lack of contact with the outside world was brainwashing her into another Alec fangirl. Gross. She shuddered, remembering the girls at Jam Pony and their less than subtle attempts to snare her-

She pushed herself to her feet with a soft snarl. Alec wasn't her anything. Besides her friend.

She quickly glanced over at him to make sure her sudden movement hadn't woken him before slipping out of their room, and then out of their home. She sat down on the porch, her feet scuffing in the dirt sullenly. He probably wouldn't be woken by her outbursts if she stayed out here.

The floor shifted behind her and she glanced up. Shirtless, how he always slept, scratching the back of his head and trying hard to stifle a yawn, he didn't exactly evoke the image of a super soldier.

"What's up?" He asked around his yawn, dropping to the porch next to her. He took a gamble and let his head fell gently against her shoulder.

"I came out here so I wouldn't wake you up." Her voice was positively sulky and it made him smile.

"Felt you leave," He shrugged. Her mouth fell into a grim line. She'd been on the other side of the room when she'd stood up and finally left. It was freaky the way he could pinpoint her movements, even in his sleep.

When she didn't respond he propped himself back up and bumped her teasingly with his shoulder. "So?"

"So, what?"

"Lookin' pretty deep over there," He grinned. "Just wanted to make sure you weren't straining anything."

She could have told him to shut the hell up. But her earlier thoughts, the Alec-centered ones, made her strangely subdued and she only shot him a pensive glance instead.

He sighed, looking down and squeezing the bridge of his nose. "Thinkin' 'bout Logan?"

That got her attention. "Why would you say that?"

He pursed his lips, his hand falling from his face to reveal a strained smile. "No reason. That's just the usual expression you use when you're waxing on poetically about your doomed love."

Alec was probably the only man on earth with enough balls to say something like that to her. Or enough courage. Why had she ever hated that about him? Besides, of course, his obvious lack of tact.

Then she started as realization set in. As ever observant Alec had just pointed out, she'd made 'Logan face' (as he liked to call it) when she'd been thinking about _him_. Something just wasn't right with that picture. Sure, she and Alec were friends, but the transgenic didn't warrant a Logan face. Ever.

"You're still doing it," He pointed out.

"Doing what?"

"Making Logan face."

"It's better than my 'beat your ass' face, so count your blessings," she snapped, unhappy with where this conversation was going.

He chuckled, coming back to his feet. If she didn't want to talk about it, he sure as hell wasn't going to stay up until sunrise trying to drag it out of her. She looked up at him, doing her best to stifle the disappointment.

"Going back to bed?" She asked.

"Gonna try," he shrugged. "You comin'?"

"Not tired."

"See you in the morning, then." He moved back inside and she heard his grunt as he all but collapsed into bed. He must have been more tired then he'd let on. His breathing evened in less that a minute, a sure sign he was once more asleep.

Her smile was small but genuine.

It wasn't the first time he'd woken from deep sleep to try and comfort her. The most notable event of course being a few weeks ago, on New Year's. She could slip in and out bed with little reaction from him, but add an iota of distress and suddenly stupor man was stumbling to the rescue. He was getting better at hiding how out of it he was though, she had to give him that.

She laughed, softly. Seven months ago if someone had asked her, "Hey if you're ever stuck on a deserted island with Alec, would he be more likely to A, make with the mad Heat lovins or B. possess an instinctual desire to comfort you?", she'd have gone with A every time. She would have been wrong.

She frowned again. It was actually kind of… sweet… A little bit creepy too, but mostly sweet.

She groaned as she realized she was once again making 'Logan face.' Alec did not warrant that expression. He was her friend, damnit. Unhappy yearning and any type of facial contortion that might go with it was strictly reserved for Logan.

She pulled memories of the older man to the forefront of her consciousness, just to prove to herself that the world was still spinning on its axis. It wasn't.

The bitter disappointment and heartbreaking sadness of two years worth of frustrating circumstances and an impossible relationship did not flare with the image of her not-like-that ex-boyfriend. She tried desperately to rekindle the pain, bringing up every missed chance, every heartache, every crushing failure, but could only picture the Ordinary and the memory of her feelings, not actually experience them. (And oh god, she'd just thought of him as an ex- and an Ordinary)

To be honest, she felt… numb. She remembered the heartache and the desperation, but couldn't access it. It was like she was looking across a room at someone else's pain; aware of it and yet not fully involved. The thought hurt a little. She hadn't spent so much time trying to protect their relationship to just have it melt away…

When had everything changed?

She drew her legs up to her body and her head sunk into her knees as the pain finally reared. It only made her angrier. Because the pain was of loss, not of unfulfilled love. Which meant that part of her had already let Logan go.

Her mouth pursed, her eyes narrowing as she shoved the emotions away. She was just trippin' cuz they'd been here so long. And she'd spent almost every day fully awake, full of thought. She was just overloaded. And what did it matter, anyway? Why the hell was she putting so much thought into a damn facial expression she had no control over? It didn't _mean_ anything.

She took a deep breath and tried to think of everything she had loved about Logan.

She respected his morality.

She enjoyed his cooking. Scratch that, that doesn't count. (Then she thought of seafood that was charred on the outside and almost raw on the inside, and decided that cooking skills were definitely a plus.)

Once upon a time she may have thought his quest to save the helpless was… well… retarded. That was before she had realized it was actually quite noble.

She'd used to think he was hypocritical for attempting to lift the downtrodden from his high rise apartment, but now, she still felt a little bit of awe that he would help others despite what he was born into. In that way, he was sort of similar to her. He'd inspired her to fight against the inhumanity of Manticore, to help others, despite what they'd made her. And she'd never be able to thank him enough for that.

She loved how he had made her feel; normal, accepted, loved. She loved how he'd looked at her; like she was the only woman on earth.

But he wasn't the only man on earth who looked at her like that anymore.

Crinkling blue eyes were replaced by twinkling hazel, gentle words were exchanged for a passionate quip, soft candlelight turned into a setting sun, and images of Alec's crooked smile were filling her mind, crowding everything else out.

"No!" Her hands came up to her head and she squeezed her eyes shut in pain.

She hadn't escaped Lydecker, Manticore, White, _everything_, to have it all ripped away by an island! By a transgenic who only thought of her as a friend!

"Max?" A sleepy voice called from the depths of the dark bedroom.

She saved him the trouble and went to him instead. She fell next to him, burying her face into his chest. His arms came up automatically to wrap around her, one hand burrowing into her hair. She wanted to sleep, and forget about everything.

But she wasn't tired. And if she'd thought her thoughts were bad before, they were nothing compared to the torturous feelings that gripped her chest as she listened to the beat of his heart. He shifted under her, trying to dredge himself from dreamland.

"Go to sleep, Alec," her voice was far harsher than it should have been.

"Well, when you say it like that." His voice was amused and she looked up into his suddenly sharp eyes. Nothing like defensiveness to get him lucid.

His eyes flicked to her mouth for half a heartbeat, and he licked his lips. He cleared his throat, looking back into her pained brown eyes. "What's up?"

"Go back to sleep," she repeated, gently. He sighed in frustration, his head falling back onto his pallet. There was no use trying to get anything out of her if she was just going to be avoid-o girl. Alec thought longingly of brick walls.

Max frowned against his chest at one of Alec's shortcomings. He gave up too easily, especially when it came to emotions. At least Logan would have persisted. Then again, Logan had been on a yacht with a girlfriend in 2009, when Alec had still been stuck in Manticore. It was safe to say that Logan had more experience in relationships than Alec did. The thoughts only made Max more pissed off. Great. Now even her own damn mind was automatically defending the transgenic.

Alec didn't let go of her though and that was something. Maybe they couldn't always communicate smoothly. Maybe neither of them really knew how to deal with their evolving relationship. But they made up for it other ways. Usually.

Her head gently rose and fell with the rhythm of his breathing.

Everything was so confusing. So painful. How could she get it to stop? She just wanted to be off this island. She wanted to be back in Seattle. She wanted Logan to appear and take all this uncertainty away.

She didn't want to fall for Alec.

Her eyes squeezed shut. Maybe if she tried hard enough, she could succumb to sleep, and she wouldn't have to think about it anymore.

Alec, well aware of her tension, was unable to sleep either. Kinda hard when she was broadcasting her unhappiness to the world, filling the air with an electric current that made him feel like he needed to hit something. In the end, all he could do was smooth down her hair and hope that she'd sort out whatever was festering in her mind.

If he knew Max, though, her unhappiness was in some way, shape, or form directly linked to a scruffy, thirty-something year old thousands of miles away.

That made him wish she'd sort it out and get over it all the more quickly. He didn't like when she was in pain. And he didn't like how he felt, knowing that her pain was caused by her feelings for Logan; like he'd been punched in the gut and stabbed in the back at the same time.

He pushed the thoughts away.

He really didn't want to fall for Max.

Physically they were together. But as sleep finally dragged their all too willing minds from the confusion, mentally they couldn't have been farther apart.

Even if it killed them, they'd do everything in their power to hold on to the memories of Logan/Rachel/true love/freedom and do even more to try and push the traitorous thoughts of Alec/Max away.

There was only problem.

They underestimated the ability of sexual tension and emotional confusion to wreak havoc upon their wills.

It's one thing to resist sexual temptation, no matter if it was caused by feline DNA or by loneliness. And yeah, even without heat, there were a few silent midnight yearnings, but neither of them was stupid enough to express anything out loud. C'mon, let's face it, they were hot, they were alone in an almost idyllic setting, they had months and or years of sexual frustration, and they were both painfully human. Sexually, mind the pun, the situation was very doable. However, it was also easy to resist when they knew it wouldn't actually mean anything, that it'd do more to destroy their relationship than strengthen it.

But it was a whole new ball game when you added emotional uncertainty into the mix. Suddenly everything became a whole lot messier. If the two forces were to ever combine…

Come to think of it, wasn't her heat due soon?

The thought had her bolting upright as the sun peered over the horizon. She scrambled away from him and into the front room, snatching the calendar from the short table. She counted the marks quickly, and then counted again just to be sure. She sighed in relief, letting the calendar drop back down to the table. She wouldn't be trying to tear off his clothes in the next few hours...

The relief was short-lived as the realization set in. All this confusion wasn't caused by feline DNA. And if it wasn't spawned from her zoo-worthy gene pool and an imminent heat cycle, it meant all this puzzlement was her own. Which was even worse.

But it wasn't quite as bad as the knowledge that even though she wasn't in heat now, her genes _would _assert themselves soon. If she really and truly wanted him, more than just physically, she didn't know if she'd be able to take no for an answer. And if she got no for an answer, it might very well destroy her emotionally and quite possibly cause his face to be broken. She could only pray that when she was gripped by her baser instincts, the desire to mate wouldn't be replaced by the desire to Mate. And there's a big difference between those two words, her pretenses at normalcy notwithstanding.

She stumbled out the door, watched the sun come up as a bitter rage gripped her. It was one thing to pretend ignorance involving her feelings for Alec. But no matter what she told herself, in less than a week, all that denial would be stripped away. And a small part of her was well aware that a lot of it was denial.

She didn't like to admit it. She was happy in her land of blissful ignorance, and she wanted to stay there. And now, she also kind of wanted to hurt something.

She popped him upside the head when he came out for their morning swim, just so the world could return to its natural order. She told herself she wasn't punishing him for her confusion, but the excuse rang hollow in her mind. And as soothing as being bitchy to him could be, it didn't stop her eyes from flicking over him, a small frown on her face, as he stripped down to his boxers. But it did make her feel a little better.

He glanced over at her, caught her in her stare. And luckily, totally misread it before she could get a good blush going.

"C'mon, Max, how many times do I have to tell you, I'm not swimming in jeans, I don't care how delicate your sensibilities are." He paused, let his eyes trail down her body, take in the dark shirt and fraying jeans slung low on her hips. "Honestly, don't know how you-"

Then he stopped and watched in rapt fascination as her slim fingers pulled at the snap of her jeans. Swallowed audibly, his eyes following the trail of exposed skin as she slid the dark material slowly down her thighs. It took him a moment to realize he was staring. He turned away, his expression dark.

"Fucking tease." She heard him mutter.

Max bit her lip, unable to suppress the smile as she reached for the hemline of her shirt. Hell, if Alec got to prance around in underwear, why couldn't she? She told herself that this wasn't another sick attempt to punish him for her own thoughts.

She couldn't swim in her jeans the rest of her life. Besides, bikinis weren't much different than underwear. (Never mind that Max had never owned a bikini in her life) She'd have to break that barrier sometime between now, and oh, say, her death. End of discussion. Moving on.

Alec had already begun his swim out, and she watched his long strokes carry him further from the shoreline with only a touch of disappointment. Hadn't even waited for her.

Actually, he _had_ started to wait, watching the horizon, muscles in his jaw working overtime, waiting for her to yell "Just kidding!" and put her damn pants back on. He'd turned around to tell her to hurry the hell up just in time to watch her seize the edge of her shirt and begin lifting up. Leaving without her became the only option as his body had hummed to life, his senses singing in arousal.

The activity, the extra unnecessary power he put into his kicks, helped drain him of the dark aggression. He couldn't swim forever, though. His movements slowed to a stop, and habit had him waiting in the middle of the lagoon for her to catch up.

Without the activity, the thoughts came rushing back and the menacing anger gripped harder.

What the hell was she thinking?

Yeah, he'd admitted that she was his best friend. That didn't make him a fucking saint. And he was still a man, and she was still a woman, and he hadn't had sex in… going on seven months, now? She needed to learn some god damn delicacy.

Of course, this was Max he was talkin' bout. Miss Anti-sexuality-unless-I'm-trying-to-get-something. Miss Hardly-thinks-of-herself-as-a-girl-because-she-kicks-so-much-ass.

And then of course, his all time favorite, Miss Categorize-everyone-around-me. Alec thought it might be based on the little military training she'd had. He liked to classify threats as well, he just didn't extend the classification into friend types like she did.

And once she _had_ classified you, it took a whole lot of kicking and screaming to be thought of as anything else. Just look at how she'd babied Joshua and what it'd taken for her to accept that he was a grown man and could make his own decisions. Or hell, look at how she dealt with Alec. It'd taken being stuck on an island for her to remove him from the zone of 'perpetual screw up/pain in the ass'. If he'd been finally been reclassified to the category of 'non threatening male friend,' maybe she wouldn't think much of showing a little bit of skin.

The thought made everything that much worse. When she caught up to him, he didn't wait for her to speak, diving beneath the waters before she could even open her mouth.

Max, who had long ago told herself that Alec's chimeric nature was impossible to understand, much less control, pushed away her annoyance and followed him under. No matter that her own attitudes were just as unpredictable.

It would be harder to catch fish this distance from the shore, so it seemed Alec was just lookin' for some exercise. When he once again kicked away from her half-hearted attempt at underwater tag, she glared at him and made a beeline for the shore. He didn't follow her.

She told herself when he came back, she wouldn't yell.

And when he did, she didn't and was inordinately proud of herself.

"What's up?" She asked, her voice very carefully light.

The water had cooled his blood and his head, so he was able to flash a grin at her tense (once more clothed, hallelujah) form and shrug. "Eh, just a little wound up, no big." He dropped into the sand next to her, instantly regretting it when the grit took to his skin like… well, like sand to wet skin.

Max shook her head. He shoulda known better. She brushed some of the offending material from his shoulder. "Rough night?" She glanced away, from both her own almost tender reaction to him as well as the chord her words struck in her own mind.

He shrugged. He couldn't very well tell her that, yeah, it had been a rough night. That each night she decided to grace him with her presence was only making it harder for him to pretend like he didn't want more.

And he really couldn't tell her that the nights she didn't spend with him made him feel as though a piece of him was missing. Or that it hurt him to think she might only think of him as a warm body to fill a void, a friend incapable of being anything else.

There had to be a way to stop all this confusion. Max was his best friend. He couldn't… wouldn't risk their relationship 'cause he was a little horny and the alpha male inside of him wanted to be recognized as superior to an older man thousands of miles away. At least he hoped that those were the main issues driving this emotional shit storm.

She glanced at him from the corner of her eye. There had to be a better way for her to deal with this. Why couldn't she stop taking her problems out on him?

* * *

Max felt tired far earlier than usual. The day of painful introspection had been physically draining, to say the least. Memories of Alec's earlier fumbling and her own wretchedness had her reaching for him almost automatically. He'd sighed, like he didn't actually want her with him for a change. Max ignored the hurt, knowing better than to let up when things got bad. They were in this together. 

Alec, catching her stubborn glare, knew he had two options. A. pretend like he didn't care that Max was crawling up next to him, or B. act like he did care, fight with her for about an hour, have a heart to heart and end up in bed with her anyway, feeling that much closer to her. So he chose A, because he figured it'd save them some time and emotional messiness. Plus, sooner he was asleep, the sooner he could forget what she looked like without clothes.

Only that brought an image from the deep recesses of his memory, images of water rippling down her naked form…

Alec groaned and rolled away from her.

"Are you sure you're okay?" She asked, insistent, leaning over him to look at his tortured face.

"Just drop it," He bit out, harshly.

"Fine," She fell back into the furs, a glare tightening her features. When he didn't turn back to face her, like he usually did, she frowned at his back. She pressed herself to him, hoping he'd eventually get it through that damn thick skull of his that they were partners now and he had to let her in every once in a while. Also, she thought it would kind of piss him off. Heh. Take that.

Alec sighed, mentally. Max had a talent of ignoring the obvious. And that talent was stomping all over his hormonal control. Well, he'd managed to sleep next to her so far without doing anything too terrible.

Only it looked like tonight he wouldn't be getting much sleep. He just stared at the wall, resisting the urge to yank himself away (to save himself? weird.) when her hand curled against his chest, over his heart. Eventually it was just easier to do what Manticore had trained him to do and he slowly shut down his system, falling into a hopefully dreamless state of unconsciousness that could hardly be qualified as sleep.

She felt him stiffen next to her, and then like a rippling tide, felt each muscle in his body relax one by one as he forcibly shoved his mind under. Her head lifted as his breathing evened suddenly and he became deadweight upon the floor. She was tempted to be mad at him for mentally abandoning her. But she couldn't help but think that she sort of deserved it.

When he woke up in the morning, she was splayed on her back and he was pressed into her, his head on her shoulder. Great. Even when he was unconscious he was reaching for her. He must have been pretty far gone, if he'd slept with his mouth open.

The desire to surreptitiously wipe at his mouth and Max's shoulder was secondary however. Because, upon wakening, he immediately realized that his hand was up her shirt, well past "friend-zone" boundaries. Or what's worse, the way he was pressed into her thigh would leave nothing to the imagination when it came to his arousal. Or even more horrific, as his fingers flexed near the underside of her breast, she had just woken up. She only had time to glance at him in confusion before he tore himself from her side and bolted out the door.

He was tempted to keep moving. To head into the jungle and just stay far away from her, the source of all this… pain. The animal in him knew that relief would only come by removing himself from the threat; Max. The man knew she'd come looking for him, that he would never be free of her. So he paced the length of the beach instead, moody, edgy... caged.

He scowled at the sand, at the trees, at the ocean, at that crab over there. Half the point of turning his brain off the night before had been to avoid dreams. Not make them more graphic. Or turn on some whacked out Max craving deep inside of his brain.

Sure, Alec had had stimulating dreams about Max in the past, (usually of the toss Logan out a window, get busy on Eyes Only desk variety). He'd never actually tried to feel her up, though. Now that he knew it was only the tight reigned control of his consciousness holding him in check, there was no way he'd be using Manticore's trick ever again.

Of course, to be fair, the last time he'd had a dream _that_ graphic about her, she'd been in-

"Ah shit."

His pacing came to an abrupt stop. Why hadn't he seen the signs? Yesterday's teasing display, his own increased edginess when she was around, her moodiness…

Come to think of it, why hadn't she seen the signs? His annoyance flared. Girl should be able to tell when her heat cycle was about to start, most females could. He looked down at his tightened fist and urged himself to relax. He couldn't very well blame her, even if he wanted to. Pre-heat was notorious for being sneaky.

His shirt still lay in their bedroom, but now that he knew what was up, there was no way he'd be walking back into that minefield. He'd just have to make due without it. He turned away from the ocean, intent on getting the hell out of dodge, and fast.

Only Max had followed him out and was standing between him and the jungle, watching him with undisguised interest. And now she was moving towards him, peeling the shirt from her small frame.

He willed his feet to move. They wouldn't budge. He told himself to look away, but only managed to stare entranced at the woman walking slowly towards him.

"Ready for our swim?" She asked cautiously, her hands moving to the snap at her waist. He made a little abortive sound in his throat. She sighed in frustration, letting her hands drop.

"Oh, c'mon, Alec, you weren't even awake, stop making a big deal out of it. If I'm going to kick your ass for anything, it'll be for drooling on me."

"Max, I think you're in heat."

Max did something he didn't expect.

She laughed. And popped the snap of her jeans, shimmying out of them quickly. She tossed them at his head…

And proceeded to walk right past him. "Really? Thanks for the 4-1-1."

"Wait, you mean you're not?" He pulled the jeans from his face, revealing an incredulous expression that was almost amusing.

Her lips pursed in annoyance, but not at him, at her damn feline DNA. "Not for a week." She threw her hands up in mock frustration. "This is why God didn't give men cycles of any sort, 'cuz they can't look at a damn calendar."

"But," he gestured at her almost bare form, one hand continuing to clutch the jeans like they were a lifeline. Like if he held on to them, she'd ask for them back and put them back on. "But you're in your underwear. And my hand was up your shirt. And you're not kicking my ass."

She sighed. She couldn't believe they were having this conversation while she was almost naked. No, don't think of it like that. Yes. Deep breath. This is like a bikini. Her hip thrust to the side and she fell into her kick-ass-girl pose, hands on her hips.

"Max, if you knew how you looked, you really wouldn't be doing that right now." His voice was low, his expression dangerous.

She arched one eyebrow at him, ignoring the coil of warmth between her thighs at his heated gaze. Like she'd ever let him or her hormones dictate what she could do. His eyes narrowed into a strange mixture of fascination and menace.

"I can't believe I'm saying this," She rolled her eyes when his look of blazing intensity didn't fade, "But did you ever think that maybe you were right? That maybe I don't want to spend the next sixty years swimming in my jeans?"

He dropped her pants into the sand, his smile dangerous as he took a slow, rolling step towards her, and then another. "Really? What about when we woke up?"

Some of her confidence left her; he could see it drain from her eyes. Her hands fell from her sides as she suddenly looked a bit uncertain.

"I woke up about when you did. We were both asleep, can't very well kick your ass for that." She said defensively, resisting the urge to take a step back when he continued his advance. No matter that seven months ago she would have not only kicked his ass, but spread it all over the beach.

"Max," his voice was little more than a rumble now. "I can_ smell_ you."

The fist came flying before he even realized that she'd moved, with just enough pressure to bruise without breaking. His hands flew to his battered nose and he glared daggers at her as the first spurt of blood trickled through his fingers.

"Well, now you can't." She said brightly, turning on her heel and walking into the surf.

"Bitch." His voice was a bit nasal, but it didn't disguise the undertone of affection. She shrugged because it was true. The atmosphere was light once more, but her thoughts were dark as she waded into the ocean.

She hated herself. She had wanted to get a rise out of him. She wanted him to act as affected by her as she felt about him. And now that he had, she could only feel small and petty. Lashing out at him for doing exactly what she'd wanted him too had only made things worse.

His head tilted to stop the bleeding, he very carefully watched her head, and nothing else, move away from him. So, his attraction to her couldn't be blamed on Heat. So what?

Truth hurt, that's what.

Forget that. More importantly, a bigger truth was out there. The proverbial elephant in the room. Only this elephant was wearing a top-hat and dancing the meringue. Max was going to go into heat in seven days (six, she corrected later). Max was going to heat in six days… and if he wanted her this badly now, how in the hell was he going to be able to resist her when her heat did start?

Let the countdown begin.

* * *

_T minus 5 days and counting._

He'd never noticed how her eyes would track him before. Guess it's only normal when the only other thing that moved out here was dinner. And he was struck by how often he looked at her, as well.

He controlled his smirk as he once again turned away only a heartbeat before she would have caught him staring. Out of the corner of her eye, he could see her scowl. Funny that her scowl was now almost as endearing to him as her smile was.

Max didn't look away though. The annoyance dropped from her face and was replaced with thoughtfulness as her eyes swept across his profile. He wondered what was goin' on in her head. But more important than that, this opportunity couldn't be missed. Payback's a bitch, and she deserved a lot of it for the past couple of days.

He turned and caught her gaze full on, pretended surprise that she was staring at him, and then quirked one eyebrow to let her know she'd been caught. She colored and looked away. What was that, the fifth time she'd been discovered today?

Good thing she didn't know it, but the only reason he was able to catch her was because he was incapable of tearing his thoughts or his eyes away from her. That wouldn't have gone over well, so naturally he kept it to himself.

* * *

_T minus 4_

He'd never noticed the way she'd sigh when his arm wrapped around her at night before. Nor had he ever noticed that his breath would catch as he pressed his face into her hair. How could he so steadfastly ignore his body's reaction to her? Had he truly never noticed before? Or was it because he hadn't wanted to notice? Alec wasn't entirely sure.

He'd never noticed the way her heart would speed when his lips would accidentally graze across her skin. Only now he didn't always do it as 'accidentally' as he used to. Maybe he was just going for a little more payback for her earlier behavior. At least he hoped that was what it was. Yeah, that's it, he was just trying to get a rise out of her…

But he wasn't entirely sure that the faster thump of her heart was caused by anger.

But why would Max react to him? She had her fairytale pipe dream. There was no way he could compare to the repressed Wasp and her unrealistic hero worship.

The thought made his anger reappear, so he 'sleepily murmured', letting his lips glide across the back of her neck.

He'd never noticed it before, but he liked the little gasp she made when his breath would puff against her barcode. He loved the way she smelled afterwards even more.

* * *

_T minus 3_

Alec liked to think he was the only introspective of the two. He usually just assumed that Max spent all of her free time bemoaning her stupid Ordinary and their ridiculous love life (But he wasn't bitter about anything, nope).

He didn't know it, but he wasn't the only one caught up in the small details of their situation.

He was watching her again. She could feel his gaze sweep down her spine. She almost had a sixth sense when it came to Alec. Sometimes she thought that if she closed her eyes, spun around in a circle, and pointed she'd still aim directly at him. Her eyes snapped towards him, but he seemed pretty intent upon his fingernails. She was so _sure_ he was watching her. But she could never actually catch him in the act, and it was beginning to piss her off.

Especially since he kept catching her.

She didn't know why her eyes were drawn to him. Maybe because he was the only other thing on the beach that moved or because he was the only other human on the island. Maybe it was because he was so familiar to her now. Maybe it's because there were still little pieces of the puzzle she hadn't quite figured out yet. Maybe it was linked to all the confusion she felt when she thought about him, as if a part of her thought that if she stared at him long enough, she would miraculously be able to sort through her uncertainty.

Maybe it was because he was tan and positively delicious.

Aww. Stupid pre-heat hormones.

Her eyes opened at his half hearted chuckle. Wha- Her gaze refocused, settling into his amused hazel eyes and she realized that once again she'd been caught. Crap.

It wasn't her fault. Hormones. Like she said.

At least that's what she told herself. Because the truth… that she'd been watching him for weeks, that he meant more to her than she could possibly admit… well… the truth was unacceptable.

She and Alec were not like that.

They were comrades. They were partners. They were best friends.

But she couldn't help but wonder at the rush of security when his arm wrapped around her. Or at the sigh that seemed torn from her throat.

Or at her wounded feelings, and the knowledge that she was playing up to Alec's need for physical contact. That she was taking advantage of his hard won friendship. That at the end of the they day, that's all they were, was friends.

Then again…

She wasn't sure, but she thought that Alec was beginning to nuzzle her barcode at night on purpose. She grit her teeth as his breath danced across her skin and a flood of desire filled her.

So unfair.

* * *

_T minus 2_

On edge couldn't even begin to describe it.

She hadn't started dropping estrogen yet, but just knowing _when_ it would happen was almost as painful. And they both instinctually recognized that this time resisting her heat wouldn't be a walk in the park. So they did what they did best. They tried to push each other away. She was lashing out more, physically and verbally. And he was withdrawing more, physically and emotionally.

Which only made her lash out more.

Which only made him withdraw more.

It was a vicious cycle that might have very well continued till _her_ cycle, if it hadn't been for a little bit of exploring and some unstable ground.

The island, their home, was pretty well mapped out. They still took off every now and again just for a change of scenery or to see what they could find. Or, in this case, to try and avoid all the awkwardness of the beach and the bedroom.

They made the trek to Alec's cave, trying to pretend like everything was still normal between them. That things weren't just as strained, if not more so, than when they'd first arrived on the island.

When they made it to the water's edge, she finally looked at him. Silent understanding passed between the two, and they made their way around the pool. The ground next to the multi-tiered waterfall was steep and rocky, but it was no cliff. They'd be able to move up it, so long as they were careful.

Max went first. Alec stared at his handholds and the ground and nothing else.

The steady build of adrenaline as they moved slowly up the rocky incline put a smile back on their faces. This was the kind of stuff they'd been made to do, and it was sort of fun to flex their muscles for a change.

They'd made it to the top without incidence. She'd turned around to make some sort of smart ass remark about beating him. He'd opened his mouth to retort when his eyes widened and the earth (or more accurately, the rocks) beneath their feet moved. Panic had flared in his eyes, and he shoved her from the crumbling incline to stable ground without hesitation. His moment of selflessness cost him though.

Everything was moving too quickly.

Max blinked for a moment, from her spot on the ground, staring in bewilderment at the space in which Alec should have been standing. Her brain kicked back almost immediately and she scrambled to the edge, looking down the incline in time to see Alec's body crash to a halt at the base of the waterfall, face down in the dirt.

_No._

"Alec!" She shrieked, rushing down the slope towards his prone form, her haste making her slide and skid more often than not. Her brain shut down as she realized he wasn't breathing.

_Not him._

Blinding panic clawed at her mind as she all but fell on top of his back. She only barely managed to push down the sob, but the art of doing so made wetness gather in her eyes.

_You can't take him from me too! _

She held her breath. One hand reached tentatively towards him, hesitant, frightened.

Only to snap back as he groaned and rolled over.

Just had the wind knocked out of him.

"You idiot!" She shouted, her eyes turning away to hide the tell tale shimmering there. She needn't have worried about him seeing her distress. He was too busy clenching his eyes shut in pain.

"Not my fault," he wheezed. "Go yell at the damn dirt." He began to open his eyes-

And she fell on to his chest, scared of letting him see how terrified she'd been. The panic had paralyzed her, to the point of being unable to process anything. Now, the rush of emotion that filled her as she'd looked at his breathing, moving body did the same thing. The relief was almost as painful as the heartbreak had been.

"I'd hold you, but I think I dislocated my shoulder." He attempted to chuckle, but ended up hissing in pain.

Her answering laugh was more of a hiccup than anything else.

"Max," He asked tentatively, wishing she hadn't pinned the only arm that seemed to be functioning as the desire to hold her became real. "You're not… Are you crying?"

"Shut up, Alec," She whispered tersely.

He couldn't understand. Well, he could. But she couldn't explain it and remain stable. She'd seen another body like that once. She'd seen those eyes drain of life before.

But somehow the thought that this time it had been Alec had nearly destroyed her.

_What's the point of being a fucking transgenic if I can't protect you?_

She hadn't realized she'd said it out loud until he'd laughed, low and pained. "Don't you think I feel the same way?"

She glanced up at his face, at his grimace of pain, pushing away the insidious voice in her head. _You are poison. You destroy everyone who cares about you. _

"No," he said firmly, interrupting her thoughts. "I know that face. You don't get to feel guilty about this. Be mad at me for not moving quicker and saving myself, but never be mad at me for saving you…" He paused and let his head drop back into the dirt.

"Now be a sport and pop my shoulder back into place, will ya?"

* * *

_T minus 1_

They knew that her heat would be beginning the next day. The air was thick with their tension, as her body geared up to start dumping all those hormones. The strange emotions that had tortured them for the past couple of months had only been intensified by yesterday's events. The waters were muddied. They both had the sinking feeling that this time they'd be battling more than instinct when her heat arrived.

To save himself some trouble, he'd planned on leaving around noon. If he wasn't around when it started, it'd only be easier for them to stay apart. To be so near her when it started and to want her so desperately; he didn't think he could handle it.

Only Max was being positively wonky. If he didn't know better, he'd think she was afraid of being alone.

"Why can't you just stay until tomorrow morning?" She demanded as he finished the last of his lunch.

He sighed, but he didn't look at her. "Do you really want to take that risk?"

"Yes?"

"Was that a question, Max?" His head swung towards her as amusement colored his voice.

"One more day's not gonna hurt, Alec." She insisted.

His gaze became piercing and she looked away. "You're making a pretty big gamble by asking me to stay. Do you really want to risk our relationship just 'cuz you don't want to be alone?"

She scowled, standing up abruptly. "Fine. Leave then. I'll see you in five days." And with that, she turned on her heel and made her way to their home.

He sighed, knowing he had no choice but to follow her. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing."

"Don't give me that," he trailed her into the bedroom, one hand grabbing her by the arm and spinning her around. "Tell me what's wrong." He demanded.

She dug her heels in, her chin jutting stubbornly.

"Please?" He added, his voice gentle and entreating, his hold on her arm softening, and it was the only reason why she finally answered, albeit grudgingly.

"I'm just… worried about you out there," She said softly, looking away from him, like it cost her something to admit this to him. "What if something happens to you?"

"Max," his voice was dry with amusement. "Nothing's going to happen."

Her gaze hardened and she looked up at him, striking before he realized what she intended. Her hand clamped around his shoulder, and he hissed as she squeezed the still tender flesh.

He yanked himself away from her and she almost felt guilty at the wounded glare. "What the hell was that for?"

"Shit tends to happen, Alec." She argued, "So don't act like my fears are unfounded."

"Fine," he ground out, putting distance between them. "Just tonight. But if anything happens, it's on you." He stalked out.

Max looked decidedly more uncertain.

Of course it was a Bad Idea. It was such a monumentally bad idea that they didn't say much the rest of the day. But it was a bad idea they seemed helpless to resist.

* * *

_0: Judgment Day_

She was looking up at him, all trust and vulnerability.

That's how he knew it was a dream. Max never looked at him like that. Max never called his name in that breathy whisper. Max never arched against him, gasping. The only thing Real Max and Dream Max shared in common was the smooth silkiness of their skin. Which is what made his eyes snap open. His hand rested lightly against her stomach, flexing in the soft skin under her shirt, and he seemed to be trying to devour her neck. He pulled away in horror at the blinding rush of desire.

It was only the first day. She shouldn't be responding this much. He shouldn't feel this consumed. The pheromone level was more akin to a third day of estrus than to a first.

The air was heady and he felt his head begin to spin. He fought valiantly to regain the control that was slipping away, but part of his mind was rebellious at the thought of leaving her. Something instinctual within her recognized that he was losing the battle, that more than just his body wanted her. And that something was very, very happy about it. She rolled herself towards him, her face coming to a rest unbearably close to his. Her lips shining, parted, her breath coming in needy pants, her eyes wide, dilated… She was the pure embodiment of lust and it had him groaning, reaching for her before he registered that this was the Bad Idea that they'd feared.

But who could care about that when she was so close and he wanted her so badly?

The crooked smile that lit her face as he fell into her neck almost undid him. Then she whimpered as his teeth scraped across her collarbone and he _was_ undone, his hand grasping her hip, pulling her roughly against his body, rolling them both so he could settle between her thighs.

It wasn't enough. _Too many clothes_. She tried to help him pull the shirt from her body, but gave up as the sensation of his fingers flitting across her skin became too much. Her bra was gone so quickly, it might as well have never been on the first place. She only had a moment to feel the relief of air on her overheated, tingling skin before his tongue followed the swell of her breast and her head lolled back into the furs with a moan.

It was a knee jerk reaction, surging forward against her. She scraped at his back, her legs locking around his hips, and she pulled his slack face towards her, slamming her lips over his. When he regained some of the faculty of his mind, his hand moved down her side, to the snap at her waist. He pulled away from her mewling disappointment with a wicked grin, so he could take it all in. She was so dazed, it was almost like she couldn't see him.

His fingers stilled before he could even undo the snap.

Couldn't see him.

_She couldn't see him. _

He ripped away from her with a pained roar. Her eyes refocused at the sudden, unexpected, and totally unwanted lack of contact.

"Alec?" She said his name in a breathy whisper that he'd thought was only confined to his dreams.

"Not like this," he gasped, sitting on his knees, shaking his head angrily, trying to loosen the fog that was strangling his mind. "I don't want you, not like this."

Her face fell. "You… don't want me?" And suddenly the press of hormones wasn't so overwhelming. But there was a terrible darkness descending around her. She laughed, almost hysterical. "_You_ don't want _me_?"

He fell back into her, pressing his mouth insistently against hers, and the darkness dissipated as she pressed up into his hardness, her fingers clutching convulsively at his back. The lust resurged, but not as overpowering as before and he was able to break away after a moment, gasping. He let his forehead rest against hers, an almost pained expression on his face.

"I do. I do want you, Max." He groaned, and they both tried hard to focus on what he was saying. The intimacy of their position was making everything so difficult. She squirmed against him, the aching need to be filled making everything else fall into a gray haze. His eyes, barely open, caught the desperate expression on her face through his long lashes. His pained laugh had her trying to focus on him once more. He caught her chin with his fingers as he gazed intently into her eyes.

"I want it. I want this. I want you." He paused, his eyes flicking away as he licked at suddenly dry lips.

She tried to reach for him, but his free hand batted hers away easily.

"But not like this," His eyes moved back towards her as he tried to press his sincerity on her. "When… if this ever happens… I want it to be just us, not the hormones." His voice broke a little, "I want _you_ to be here with me."

"But I am-" She protested, but he'd already released her, standing and pulling on his shirt.

"Alec," She protested weakly, pushing herself up on her elbows. His eyes flicked back towards her half clad form. It took every ounce of will in his body, but he managed to duck out the door before the plea in her eyes could snare him.

As he disappeared, Max, the girl, not the cat, fell back into his bed, bitter tears stinging her eyes.

It wasn't exactly a rejection. In fact, it was probably the single most greatest thing anyone had ever said to her.

But it hurt like a bitch.

And it was enough to keep her from going after him, even when Heat sang in her veins, rising to a crescendo on the third, and worst, day.

* * *

_T plus 4_

"Is it over?" He asked, his face hard as he stalked out of the trees and towards her. He hadn't really needed to ask, the musk of her heat had already faded.

"Yeah," She glanced up at him, trying to control how miserable she felt, and then took a step back in alarm as his advance didn't falter or even slow.

"Good," he growled and swept her up, his lips capturing hers in unrepentant ferocity.

* * *

End Chapter 6

* * *


	7. Chapter 7: Tension

A/N: AHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! I love you guys. You make it so worth it to write. Last chapter pushed me over the 100 review mark:) I'm thinking about starting a Castaway's Anonymous group. You're all invited. Just Kidding… But no, seriously, I am. ;) I'm the prezzy because I'm seriously more addicted to working on this than of you guys realize. I woke up from a nap with a paragraph that had been giving me trouble resounding in my head.

Standard disclaimers apply. Reviews are awesome. Happy dances are awesome. I've been doing a lot of awesome happy dances since you guys have been so good about leaving awesome reviews. :) Think I killed that word? Awesome.

Alright, let's do this bitch. Rated M for the usual naughty reasons and for more language than usual. Nothing NC-17 or downright raunchy, but plenty of verbage that will make the prudish squicky. (and yes, both verbage and squicky are made up words). Don't likey likey, don't read-y read-y. Easy 'nough.

And yeah, there is a slight nod to Buffy hidden in this.

* * *

Castaway 

Chapter 7: Tension

* * *

_Previously on Castaway_

"Is it over?" He asked, his face hard as he stalked out of the trees and towards her. He hadn't really needed to ask, the musk of her heat had already faded.

"Yeah," She glanced up at him, trying to control how miserable she felt, and then took a step back in alarm as his advance didn't falter or even slow.

"Good," he growled and swept her up, his lips capturing hers in unrepentant ferocity.

* * *

It was like heat all over again. Part of her wondered how she could feel this consumed without the hormones. The rest of her just didn't care as her legs wrapped around his narrow hips, her hands coming up to hold his face close. 

His hands were equally busy, clutching her tightly to his front, trying to press her even closer. This wasn't gonna work. He hefted her more securely against him, her legs settling around his waist, and started moving carefully towards their home, his mouth still moving desperately over hers. Wanting to get where they were surely going that much faster, she broke away from the needy kiss, her mouth moving across the firm line of his jaw, down the corded column of his throat. His fingers tightened on the underside of her thighs and her nostrils flared as dark arousal gripped her body. She bit down, hard, on his neck.

His jaw clenched as her teeth clamped against his skin and his legs gave out, his eyes almost rolling up in his head. He crashed to his knees near the remains of the fire, a few good feet from the doorway to their home. Those few feet may as well have been a mile with his complete lack of ability to move. His eyes fell shut, his breathing becoming labored, and he struggled to regain control, his fingers flexing rhythmically against her... keeping time with her heartbeat, he realized. Her voice filtered through the red haze of pounding blood and everything became that much harder.

"Don't stop," She pleaded, her breathy whisper caressing his ear.

He pushed her into the dirt, ignoring the breath expelled from her lungs in favor of yanking off his shirt. Then he was falling over her, her legs splaying wide to accomodate his body, and he caught himself inches from her face, predatorial delight shining in his eyes. Her slight fingers roved up the bunched muscles of his biceps, splayed happily over the strength of his tensed shoulders before sweeping down his front. She took animalistic pleasure in the way he sucked in a breath when her hands dug into the skin above the waistband of his jeans.

He watched her eyes track the movement of her hands, watched the arousal swim in them, and he watched a flash of black move through the brown. "Max?" He growled, the deep quality of his voice making her breath come faster. "You here with me?" He didn't know if he could handle it if she said no.

Why was he still talking? "Of course I am," Her eyes narrowed in pleasure as she pulled at the button tab of his jeans, biting her lip when it came free.

He pushed himself back to his knees, away from her hands, every muscle screaming in protest. "You're sure?"

She recognized the lightness for what it was. He was pulling away.

No. No. No.

"Please, Alec, don't do this," She begged, unsure of how to get through to him. And hating herself for begging. Hating him for making her beg.

The animal was just as much a part of them as the human, and some of his most ardent fantasies involved letting it all go and tearing her clothes off… but Alec had always thought she wanted… well… the romance. He was a little disgusted by his unexpected and overwhelming desire to please her, but he didn't know how else to explain it. He offered her a tight smile.

"How about a swim, eh?" He pushed himself to his feet, as though they hadn't been about to claw each other's clothes off, as though every ounce of his blood hadn't already been diverted to his groin. Max's eyes widened.

"Are you kidding?"

"C'mon, I'm already halfway there." He winked at her, his hand resting lazily above the fly of his jeans.

"Alec, if you take off your pants in front of me, I swear I'll rape you."

"Right," She watched a shudder of arousal wrack his body. "Well, how about I go get lunch, then?"

"What the hell is wrong with you?" She shouted, pushing herself up on her forearms.

"Nothing," he said defensively, backing away from her.

"Nothing?" Her eyes flashed in defiance. "You're practically running away from me! I thought…" Her voice broke and fell to a pained whisper. "I thought you wanted me."

There was the gold, moving through the green. "I do," He ground out. Goddamnit, couldn't she see he was trying to give her what she wanted? Trying to reign in the animal so he could give her the goddamn fireworks, and the parade, and the 76 fucking trombones, and whatever the hell else she needed.

"You've got a funny way of showing it."

Her bitterness stung him, but he didn't say anything, just shrugged and retreated behind his walls. She pushed down the growl at the back of her throat.

"What the hell is this?" She demanded. "You told me you wanted _me_ when I was heat. Well, here's your chance, big shot. No heat. Just me."

Only now she didn't really wanna fuck him, she wanted to hit him. He smirked, because he knew it too.

"Maybe some other time, kiddo."

Oh hell no.

She sprang at his back as he began moving away. They crashed into the dirt, Alec hissing as his palms scraped against rocks. Hissing because the pain and the feel of her pressed into him, breathing against his neck, awakened the dark hunger he was trying so hard to control.

And Max knew it. She only had a moment to smirk superiorly at the back of his head before he bucked, sending her toppling to the ground next to him. He struggled to stand and she kicked his leg out from under him. He growled, shoving her away, trying again to come to his feet only to be knocked back down as she moved back, lashing out.

His eyes narrowed and he rolled to his back, getting ready to spring up to his feet. But Max was prepared, and one leg splayed across his thighs, one hand raked across his tensed stomach, and her open mouth moved over his shoulder to the base of his throat, nipping at his flesh gently.

"Sadist," He growled.

"Masochist," She countered, her breath catching as she lost herself in his scent.

He yanked her fully on top of him, pulling her mouth down to his in a fiery match of lip and tongue and teeth that left them both aching. His fingers gripped at her thighs, pushing her back and more fully against him, and she moaned against his mouth as she felt the evidence of his arousal. Her legs tightened around him, his fingers flexed against her hips, and they rolled as one until he was above her.

Had it been a dirty move? Yeah, but Max never did fight fair. And part of her knew that if she didn't take the initiative this would never happen, that Alec would always be second guessing himself, waiting for another sign from her that she was truly ready. She was ready, damnit. Had been ready since his jaw-dropping declaration three days ago. And if he couldn't see that, she'd have to show him.

Alec's eyes widened, the pupil almost overtaking the fiery green-gold, as she undid his zipper deftly, her hand gliding between the layers of jean and boxer to grasp at his hardness.

There wasn't much room for discussion after that.

She'd hastily shoved his pants and boxers away, using hands, fingers, feet, whatever she could to get them off that much quicker. He was only too willing to return the favor, disposing of her shirt and bra in short order, flinging them across the clearing with every ounce of impatience he felt. Her jeans and underwear were the last to go, yanked from her body even as she was kicking desperately to get out of them.

He fell over her and one hand swept down her front. His eyes widened at the slick heat his hurried fingers found between her thighs. He fell into her, his teeth clenched, struggling again to regain control, but he couldn't dredge up enough to stop his fingers from moving against her, stop himself from burying his face into her neck, breathing in the scent that was like nighttime and rain, and arousal, and it was so _Max_ and everything he wanted in the world.

She whimpered, deep in her throat, pushing herself firmly against his hand and he hissed as her thigh brushed against his almost painful erection. And then she was squirming, pushing his hand away, scooting her body down to give him better access, arching against him and _oh god_ he felt her and she was all warmth and wetness and surely this would kill him. He sucked in a pained breath, his fingers digging into her hips, and instinct had him surging forward and into her.

Her eyes widened and his gaze swept up to meet hers. They paused for a moment, adjusting to the sudden overwhelming sensation, eyes locked. Then her hand swept up his arm and over his shoulder, moving to the back of his neck to caress the black lines there. And that was it for him, no going back now. She pulled him down, capturing his mouth, gasping against him as he finally, _finally_, started moving within her.

It started gentle enough, he tried to give her that much. Then one of her legs wrapped around him and she shoved herself up as he was coming down and all thought flew right out the window.

The rest was a symphony of limbs and teeth and needy pants and straining and- holy fuck did he just growl, how the hell could a growl get her so hot? He sucked in a pained breath as she clenched even tighter around him, if that was possible, and he rocked her up into his arms, coming to his knees with her in his lap, arching hard up into to her.

She grasped tightly at his shoulders, her head falling back, as she splintered and shattered, coming apart in his arms. The instinctual sign of absolute trust, coupled with her throaty cry and the way she was pulsating around him was enough to undo him, sending him crashing over the edge right after her.

It took a good minute for their vision to clear, their panting to steady, their hearts to slow. And when it did, she was still sitting in his lap, their arms still tight around each other.

They glanced away.

...Awkward...

He chuckled, almost nervously. "Sure you're not still in heat?"

She didn't dignify that with a response, instead pulling her heavy limbs away from him. They still couldn't meet each other's gazes.

Well.

That had been…

Ah hell. It'd been fantastic and downright explosive. Not that either of them could say that out loud.

"Guess angry sex is the best kind to have," She joked weakly.

And all of the wonderment and amazement that had been dawning within him dropped away, leaving only the cold hard reality of what had just happened. His eyes swept over the evidence of their hurried mating. The bite marks peppered across her throat. The bruises already developing around her hips. And he'd be lying if he said he didn't feel a sort of primal satisfaction about the whole thing. But this… this isn't at all what he'd wanted. This couldn't be anything close to what she wanted.

She watched the darkness sweep across his features and she wished desperately that she hadn't opened her big, stupid mouth.

He reached for his jeans. She popped his hand, and he looked up, shocked, at her wary face.

"You don't get to do that." Her eyes narrowed in warning.

"Do what, Max? Get dressed?"

"Stop kidding yourself. We both know you're trying to run away." She scowled at him.

"What are you talking about?" Another reach that fell short as her hand tensed above his, ready to descend at a moment's notice.

"You're making that face." She paused to mimic his stormy expression, her voice rising in a mocking falsetto. "_Oh, my name is Alec and no one can understand me because my life is so hard_." She arched one eyebrow at him. "Is that about right?"

"You don't know what you're talking about."

"Please, like I can't see right through you." She scoffed. "You don't get to shut me out again, especially not after that. You don't get to blame yourself for something that _I started_."

"You started?" He laughed, humorlessly. "_I _kissed _you_."

"Excuse you?" Her voice was clipped, her laugh incredulous. "I seem to recall that I took off your pants first."

Her eyes held his as she tried to fix what shoving her foot in her mouth had started. "Listen to me, Alec. I wanted that to happen. I made it happen. If you should be mad at anyone, it should be at me, not at yourself."

He sighed, running a hand through his hair. And then wincing, his hand coming back down to touch at his neck, at a bruise that was forming from her teeth. Max, watching him, looked strangely satisfied and embarrassed at the same time. He fixated on the embarrassment, sure that she thought it'd been too rough, too primal, and he glanced away as the darkness threatened once more. Her eyes narrowed as she completely misread the reasoning behind his expression.

"Oh, I get it." She ground out, as mortification overtook the satisfaction, leaving her feeling very small and _very_ defensive. "What, not gentle enough for you, princess?"

"It wasn't supposed to be like that," His face was grim.

"What, was there supposed to be mood music and candlelight and…" She bit her tongue before the word 'pasta' could come spilling out. She amended smoothly, "romance?"

She couldn't stop the hurt from building in her chest. He'd been the one person she trusted with that side of herself; that dark side that she didn't show to Ordinaries... to _anyone_. And now he was rejecting it; rejecting her? Her face fell as something inside of her crumbled.

Alec's head cocked as he watched her face twist from anger to incredulity to pain. What Max didn't realize is the he had no problem with primal roughness, especially when it came to her and sex that was that damn fantastic… But he'd always thought that _she_ was all about the romance. He'd always thought she _wanted_ the mood music and the candlelight, and yeah, even the pasta that she had stopped herself from saying aloud. And Alec was about nothing, if not about what Max wanted; whether it be a car lifted off some gangster types, getting aboard a doomed ship headed towards New Zealand, a damn bird for lunch that took him a lot of thought and even faster reflexes to catch, or his mistaken belief that she'd wanted something fairytale like when it came to sex. He paused, pursing his lips in thought as the darkness dissipated. She was really okay with all of this?

"So sorry I didn't wine and dine you first," Max muttered, unaware of his sudden shift in attitude, reaching for the nearest garment, her pants, feeling very insecure. "But I'm fresh out of cups and someone replaced all the spaghetti with monkeys."

He couldn't help the smile. "Those bastards." He casually took the pants away from her and flung them across the clearing.

It never hurt Max more to admit something, but here goes. "I'm not Rachel," She ground out. There was her underwear, near the cinders of the dead fire.

"Yeah, well, I'm not Logan." He arched one eyebrow, removing her underwear from her hands just as easily. Flinging them just as far away.

"I'm sorry I can't live up to whatever romantic notion you have in that thick head of yours, but I'm just me. Just Max. Don't really know how to be anything else."

"Likewise, sweetheart."

She glanced up at him, her eyebrows furrowing as caught on to his complete attitude reversal. Wait, so he hadn't disliked it? He was watching her watch him and she realized she should say something rather than stare at him like an idiot.

"Don't call me sweetheart," She muttered, realizing how lame it sounded, even as the words fell from her lips. "I hate when you call me that."

"No you don't," He smiled smugly.

"You bet your ass I do." She grumped, secretly pleased that they weren't going to fight like she'd thought they were. "Now go get me lunch."

"I'm sorry, but aren't _you_ supposed to become _my_ willing slave?" He preened in mock arrogance.

She waved a hand in dismissal. "It wasn't that good."

His eyes narrowed. "Yes, it was."

The breath left her in a rush as her skin suddenly became too tight for her body. He couldn't want- but, they'd just- she couldn't possibly-

"Must have been doing something wrong if you don't agree with me." His voice rumbled, his shoulders flexing. He looked kind of like a big cat; a big cat about to pounce. She scrambled away from him, but it was her turn to be pulled to the ground as he easily caught her ankle.

"Max," He paused, his eyes sweeping across her back. "You're filthy." And not in the good, kinky way, either. The dusty sod had turned her back almost orange and his eyebrow arched as he noticed the scrapes that some smaller rocks had left against her skin. Guess she wasn't that unaffected by the previous events if she hadn't noticed the rocks digging into her back. Alec had never felt more assured of his manliness then at that moment.

"Sweat and dirt tends to do that," She muttered. Her head turned so she could better glare at him. "Taken a good look at your knees yet?"

"No," His voice went back to that rumbling quality that made her insides clench. "Too busy looking at you."

He flipped her to her back easily, his lips following his hands up the length of her legs. Only _Jesus_ fucking _Christ_ his mouth didn't follow his hands to her hips and _sweet mother of god_ where'd he learn to do that with his tongue? Her hands buried into his dark blonde hair and she arched against his mouth with a cry.

When his hand came back down to join his mouth, sparks flared behind her eyes and her teeth clenched as a white haze consumed her mind, but he wasn't stopping, moving up her body, burying himself in her with a grunt, even as she quaked in orgasm. And then he was moving over her, in her, pinning down her hips with one sturdy hand, and she didn't even have any time to come down and she was scraping at his rocking shoulders as her body only got tighter and _holy fucking god _the world was exploding around her.

When they finally did make it to the waterfall, he _was_ preening.

"You didn't have to carry me." She muttered.

"Ah, but Maxie, your legs were shaking." He grinned. "And I'm nothing if not chivalrous."

"Yeah right," she scowled, mortified within an inch of her life. "Just… no more touching, okay? I think everything from the waist down is numb."

"Relax, Max. I'm a transgenic, not a mystical sex god. I could no more make something happen than you could respond to it."

Coulda fooled her.

He smirked, like he knew what she was thinking. She popped him because she knew what he was thinking. He tossed her into the water, 'cuz it was just too easy.

After she came up, when she was done sputtering, she glared at him as he slipped into the water. "See if I ever have sex with you again." She growled, smoothing the water out of her hair. Baring her chest as she did so.

His smirk was deliciously evil as he moved towards her.

"Get away from me!" She shrieked, splashing backwards and away from him.

He paused, his voice very carefully controlled. "Way to hurt a guy's ego."

"You're going to break me," She accused, shielding herself by a rock near the water's edge. Okay, so ego not that hurt. He controlled the self satisfied smirk, affecting a look of annoyance.

"Calm down," He pretended exasperation, rolling his eyes. "I'm not trying to have sex with you. I'm just going to help you with your back."

She glared suspiciously at him, moving away from her protection slowly. But then he had her pinned against the rock that was supposed to be shielding her and he was breathing her in.

"Max?"

"What?"

"Totally lied. I am trying to have sex with you."

She smirked. "I know."

He sighed in real annoyance, his head lowering into her shoulder. "Just wish someone would tell that to my body."

"Likewise." Her legs wrapped around his waist and her arms circled his shoulders. He pushed away from the boulder and walked them both towards the spray.

"Gimme an hour or two."

"An hour?" Her face fell into incredulity. "Gimme like a day,"

He shrugged, noncommittally. She smiled into his hair, her arms tightening around him. Because she knew he wouldn't try anything for at least a day.

"So," He grinned wickedly, changing the subject. Only not really. "Would you say sex with me is like a religious experience?"

She thought of all the religious terminology that had resounded in her head when he'd been moving over her.

"No," She lied.

He grinned.

* * *

That night, as they lay in bed, his hand sweeping lazily up and down the length of her smooth stomach, she smiled up at the roof as a thought occurred to her. 

"Don't_ you_ feel stupid."

"Hmm?" His fingers were getting dangerously close to a situation that wouldn't leave much room for thought. They swept back up to equally dangerous territory, right below her breast.

She rolled to face him, and his hand fell away from her as she pushed herself up on one elbow. "Just think, if it was that…" here she paused, searching for both the right word and the ability to overcome her embarrassment. She couldn't find either, "If it was that… well… if it was like _that_; what would it have been like with the heat and all the hormones?"

He pursed his lips in thought. She could tell the idea intrigued him. If his earlier reactions and his inability to stop touching her were any indication, he'd enjoyed it just as much as she had… And to add pheromones to something already so powerful?

"I think we'd die." He said matter-of-factly. She punched him lightly on the shoulder.

"Be serious." She snapped. "The hormones shut off after sex. It's not like we'd go for three days straight."

He grinned, as though he begged to differ. "Do they, Max? Or do you just push them away because the Ordinary you've ended up with doesn't react to the hormones; rolls over and goes to sleep, leaving you unsatisfied?"

She thought of crying alone in a shower, her body still aching.

"Crap. We would die."

"Nah," he shrugged, his tone almost conversational as a crooked smile lit his face. "We wouldn't be the first transgenics to pull a three night marathon. Won't be the last either. From what I've heard we'd survive, but we'd both be pretty hungry... and yet strangely unable to move." He waggled his eyebrows in amusement.

She rolled her eyes, but couldn't help the smile. She loved the way his eyes lit up when his grin became lopsided.

Neither of them could express any of the other thoughts aloud.

The truth was, it _wasn't_ supposed to be that good without the hormones. Should have just been like any other regular sexual activity; fun, refreshing, good, but not _that_ good, and once it was over, it was over. It wasn't supposed to be mind-blowing, consuming, earth shattering, and it sure as hell wasn't supposed to keep coming back to haunt them. Transgenics hooked up casually often enough, so it's not like sex between X series was always like that.

There was another type of transgenic hook up that could account for it, though… something that went far deeper than a casual booty call… And if the stories around Terminal City were to be heeded…

There was good sex, and there was great sex… and then there was Mate sex.

It's one of those weird, unexplained phenomena… When humans have sex with someone they genuinely love their brains release an extra load of feel-good endorphins that are simply not present when having sex with someone they_ don't_ love. Take that principle, combine it with animal DNA, multiply it by a thousand, and add an atomic bomb and you might be close to what a transgenic feels when coupling with their Mate.

Not that it was Mate sex.

They weren't even like that.

Although it had been explosive enough to be M- So not going there.

Oh. But yes, do go there please, as Alec pushed her to her back, his hand gliding across her breast and then down her taut stomach with no intention of stopping at her waist.

"Hasn't been a day yet," She breathed.

"You're the one who's naked." He grinned.

He stopped, wounded, when she pushed him away. But then smirked when she pressed him to his back, straddling his rapidly responding lower half, hovering just far enough away from him to be totally and completely teasing.

"Please, like you're not the one who stripped us both before we got in bed. Even though I told you to wait a day." She huffed.

He nodded sagely. "True, true." Then he paused, looking up at her, biting his lip as his eyes gleamed. "Have I been bad? You gonna punish me?"

She rolled her eyes. And then rocked against him, avoiding the completion he so desired. Because yes, she was gonna punish him 'cuz that expression on his face was just too damn arousing… and she'd gotten off to a good start if the way he clenched her hips, a pained expression on his face, was any indication. They lost themselves to each other's bodies soon after that, giving up on speech for something far more timeless.

Neither of them stopped to reflect on the deeper truth.

Despite all the events that had happened that day… All the reasoning and the talk that had been bandied about…

Not once had they brought emotion into it.

But the emotions _were_ there, coiling and roiling beneath the surface, waiting for a chance to strike. They'd be waiting for a while.

As sad as it was, and as hard as it had been, it'd been easier for Max and Alec to finally have sex than it was to talk about the feelings that had developed between them over the last seven months. It was easier to yank each other's clothes off than it was to stop and actually hash out _why_ he had turned her down when she was in heat. To discuss _why_ she had been so scared when he'd fallen from the waterfall, _why_ she'd been so broken when he'd walked away from her. There were answers to all of those 'why's', and not a single one of them had anything to do with the physical.

And in a fucked up way, their inability to talk about it said more about the depth of their emotions than anything else.

And then they did try to talk about, but went about it all the wrong way, didn't ask the right questions, weren't honest enough with each other, and everything went straight to pot.

His breath was puffing against her hair and she was curled into his side, her face pressed against his shoulder.

"What does this make us now?" He asked, his hand sliding up her arm.

She froze. Then replied in deceptive lightness. "Dunno. What do you think?"

"I asked you first."

She pulled away from him. He watched the muscles tense in her back as she sat up. Her hooded eyes glanced back at him for a moment before she looked away from him completely. Alec's heart froze.

"Max," his voice was only slightly strangled. "We're still friends, right?" Because if he couldn't be more, he at least wanted that much.

Max's fingers, which had been playing with the edge of a pelt, clenched tightly into the soft fur as her eyes fell shut. "Yeah, Alec, we're still friends." If he didn't want more, then she wouldn't push him for it.

"Good," He muttered, glancing away.

"Great," She murmured, unable to look at him.

She flopped back down. They rolled away from each other. Sleep was a long time comin'.

* * *

The days passed, rolling one into another, tumbling away. Routine stayed largely the same. Only with far more naked time. Which wasn't too bad, 'cuz hey, less tan lines. And inability to talk about emotion or not, the sex was damn good. 

But before, where Alec had reached for her in comfort, now he reached for her in an entirely different mindset. Before, where Max had sighed at the deep feelings of contentment, now she was sighing as she lost herself in touch. As they both lost themselves. And by doing so, lost a vital part of their relationship as well. Because they couldn't let it be more; refused to let it be more.

There was a reason Max and Logan had been not-like-that for two years; there was a reason Alec hadn't told Rachel he loved her until she was a coma. There was a reason Max and Alec couldn't be honest with each other. The reason was fairly simple. Max and Alec were relationship retarded.

They were so scared of being hurt, they couldn't put themselves out there to begin with. And now, added to that, they were so busy being defensive, trying to protect themselves from pain, they couldn't see past the shiny façade of their own walls to each other's pain beyond. It was one big mess.

In all fairness, relationships really did scare the shit out of them. Relationships meant you had to let someone in and they got to see you, _really_ see you. And what if they didn't like what they saw? What if you _weren't_ good enough, what if you _were_ an animal, what if you really _were_ the bad guy… what then?

And couple that with their deeply rooted belief that they could only hurt the ones they loved…

Well, they were fucked, plain and simple. It'd be a cold day in hell before they just up and declared any type of emotional bond that may or may not bear some slight resemblance to a feeling that could be a little like love but may not be and really probably wasn't at all.

See?

It never occurred to them that the intimacy they'd had before her heat far surpassed anything they'd ever shared with another human before. It didn't occur to them, (yes, it did, it was just too painful to think about) because they'd only been 'friends' then, so it didn't count. Of course, they were still _only_ friends now. That's all they were. Because that's the way she wanted it. Because he didn't want anything more.

The sex was good, the sex was great, the sex was fucking phenomenal. But something was missing. They were so busy pretending that they didn't feel anything for each other, their relationship became little more than sex. And that missing element, that close relationship they'd once shared but were now too scared to rekindle… the loss of it became _painful _as the days dragged on. And as the pain grew, like wounded animals, they became _angry_.

Sleeping together had almost single handedly destroyed their relationship.

Actually, to be fair, their neuroticism, fear of rejection, and inability to just be honest with each other and come out and say "hey, I like you," was destroying their relationship. But they liked to blame it on the sex, because it was easier than blaming it on themselves.

Although, some of it could be blamed on the physical aspect...

Like when he'd reached for her one day, several weeks later, and her eyes had welled in tears. She'd almost been as shocked as he was by the sudden onslaught of emotion.

"What?" He asked, worried.

"Don't you ever just want to hold me anymore?" She snapped, the words almost torn from her throat, and then stomped away. She was mortified, she was embarrassed, she wanted to go bury her head in the sand. She was not_ girly_, damnit!

He pursed his lips, looking down at his hands. "Yeah," he muttered, when she was out of earshot. And then turned, moving off in the other direction.

But in the spirit of honesty, most of their problems were internal.

As evidenced by Alec's favorite dream (involving him, Max, and Eyes Only's desk) and how it'd pulled a number on him. The dream started out smoothly enough… Yada, yada, yada, Eyes Only mission. Blah, blah, blah, my god, Logan is a robot, we must fight to the death. Et cetera and so forth… Push Max into the desk, wait for her to beg him to make mad, passionate love to her…

Only Dream Max had taken that opportunity to declare her love for him instead.

And it'd scared him enough to make him gasp, waking up Max from across the room. From across the room, 'cuz she'd been in a real pissy mood since the beach incident a few days ago and was hardly sleeping at all, much less sleeping next to him.

A dream declaration of love isn't supposed to be something that scares you.

Unless you're a transgenic that's terrified of rejection, scared that you'll inevitably end up hurting the person you love, and happen to think that the person you can't stop thinking about is only using you for your admittedly hot body and mad bedroom skills. In which case, yeah, you'll probably be a little scared. Because dreams sometimes show us what we truly feel, what we really want. And if that's what Alec really wanted… Dreams are stupid, anyway.

The dream, as shocking as its disruption had been, had one good side effect… his pained gasp been enough to get her past their carefully constructed emotional boundaries. Enough so that she crossed the room with little thought and woke him without a care as to how he might attribute her actions or what he might think of her. And his nonchalant, blasé attitude, so like pre-island Alec and not at all like _her_ Alec, had worried her enough that she didn't move back to her bed, but lay stiffly next to him, instead. And if nothing else, he was thankful for that. It was almost like old times when he wrapped an arm around her and dropped off to sleep, a slight smile on his face.

Course she had to go and ruin it by developing a sudden craving for him in the morning. She cursed herself and her stupidity and her hormones and her inability to keep her hands to herself and how ridiculously human she was as the tenderness of the previous night evaporated and all the uncertainty came rushing back.

What were they now? Friends? Lovers? Did he love her? Did she love him? God, why couldn't she just open up to him? What the hell was his problem; why couldn't he tell her how he felt?

Why couldn't they keep their damn hands off each other?

This was ridiculous.

If they didn't want to have sex, why should they? Easy as pie. Just abstain from now on, no problem. Their relationship could go back to the way it was before, before all this uncertainty.

Only the uncertainty had started before they'd started having sex, so how does that work? Sleeping together may have worsened their confusion, but it certainly didn't cause it.

Whatevah, it's just sex. They could live without it. And if it meant they could get their old relationship back, she was willing to give it up.

In the end, she only made it worse. She rebuffed him. And that, combined with their already strained relationship, made him think she'd finally lost interest, that she didn't want anything to do with him. So he stopped talking to her. After which she could hardly even bear to look at him as she began to think he didn't want to even be her friend anymore, that he was only interested in the sex.

That they'd been so close and been reduced to _this_… It was almost unbearable.

And Max had to do _something_ about it.

She came to grips with _why_ the sex was so good. The explosive nature of their couplings, coupled with how close they'd been before her heat, made the answer fairly obvious. So she went to him, breaking their silence in an attempt to rectify the situation. She wanted to laugh with him and joke with him and just talk to him and if that meant she never achieved that mind-blowing level of euphoria again, so be it. If that meant going to him and asking him how to dissolve this damn Mate thing, than that's what she'd do.

"Listen," She ground out, watching him pretend to ignore her. "My stupid body has decided that it wants to be Mated to you. God knows why, 'cuz I can barely stand you, but there it is. Can we just get over it now and go back to being like we were before?"

"I'm not stupid, Max." He scowled, throwing a branch into the fire with more force than was strictly necessary.

Her eyes narrowed. "So you did realize then."

"People halfway 'cross the world probably realized it before you did." He replied in a bored tone. "Why are you bringing this up now?"

"How do you get it to stop? I want it to go away. It's ruined _everything_." Her voice, which had started strong, fell quickly into desperation.

"No, having sex ruined everything. And even if I knew," He snarled, coming to his feet, his pain rearing up with him. "Don't you think I'd have done it by now? You think I want to be Mated to a bitch like you?" She'd just asked him to dissolve their Mating for chrissakes. Excuse him for feeling a little bit hurt. Even if he hadn't asked for this whole fucked up situation in the first place.

The force of her open palm snapped his head to the side. He pursed his lips, eyes narrowing, as his fingers came up to touch the red flesh of his cheek.

"So, we're back to this now?" His voice was low, dangerous and his hand fell away. He rolled his shoulders like he was gearing up for a fight. "You're awfully pissy about this. When it's _all your fault in the first place_." He snarled, lunging for her, but she danced out of the way.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Her face twisted into disbelieving anger. Her fault?

"Gee, Max, let's think." He paused, rubbing his chin in a mockery of deep thought. "When do you think we Mated in the first place? You don't think it was when you _threw _yourself at me, do you?"

Her foot caught him squarely in the solar plexus, sending him stumbling back, but not with enough force to send him to the ground. She tossed her hair over her shoulder with a disgusted sneer. "You're blaming this on _me_? Did you not catch the part where I said I _hated_ you?"

"What was that?" His eyes widened, blinking in innocence, before his face twisted in anger and he finished derisively, "Oh, sorry, couldn't hear you over the smell of your fucking bullshit."

She quivered in rage and launched herself at him.

His tone was almost conversational as he dodged her blows. "Hate me, huh? You're the one who couldn't take no for an answer when I got back." His hand plucked her fist from the air and he spun her around, wrenching her arm painfully behind her back as he held her in a lock.

"You're deluding yourself." She snarled, trying to break free of his grip.

"How so?" God, but breathing in her hair made him want her, which only made him angrier. Stupid, stupid, stupid.

Her heel slammed into his shin and the pain loosened his hand enough for her to break free. She spun around, her fists coming up defensively. "Time to face facts, pretty boy. _This isn't my fault_. We were mated from the moment you told me you wanted me. We've been mated since my heat, when you walked out on me."

"That's impossible," His fists fell, clenching at his sides.

Her eyebrow arched, her expression icy. "Is it? You told me you wanted _me_, you idiot. Maybe you meant it literally, but that's just the kind of philosophical, bullshit statement that matings thrive on."

"Max, a mating's not something based on words." Which is why he'd hoped that this new bond had snapped into place during the throes of their first time. Because that way it was more likely to be a fluke. But, oh crap, she was probably right. The feelings had certainly been in place before her heat…

Her fists fell. "If not words, then what?"

"Feelings, Max. Just feelings. And a whole lotta instinct."

"That's impossible," She said stubbornly. "'Cuz I don't have any feelings for you."

"Likewise," He snarled, stalking off. He ducked into their home.

"Well somebody has to have feelings for somebody!" She shouted as he disappeared.

He didn't reappear, but his angry retort rang out loud and clear. "It's a two-way street, you fucking bitch!"

She had never wanted to kill anyone more. So why was she dropping into the sand, burying her face in her hands? How could she hurt so much and be so fucking angry at the same time?

Why didn't he love her?

"Don't touch me," She snarled as felt him reach out towards her.

"Max," he sighed, his hand retracting slowly. "I'm sorry, okay?"

"Sorry, sorry for what?" She laughed, almost hysterically, turning wide eyes to his tensed, crouched form. "I don't even know why I'm mad at you." Only she did, but she'd never admit it.

"Right there with ya," He muttered. Agreeing with her on more levels than either of them realized.

His hand came up slowly, resting lightly against her shoulder. She stiffened and then relaxed as he pulled her into him, letting his knees fall into the sand so she could lean into him. Her eyes clenched in pain when he pressed his cheek to the top of her head.

"We're a bunch of retards, you do realize that don't you?" She laughed brokenly into his chest.

Air rushed from his nostrils in a sad imitation of amusement. "Yeah," he muttered into her hair. Then glanced down as she glanced up. His hand came up to caress her cheek and he offered her a hesitant smile. His head dipped and his mouth brushed gently against hers as her eyes fell shut.

The desperation and the anger were still there, though, and all too soon, the kiss deepened. Her arms came up to wrap around his neck.

And everything became painful.

He tore away from her. "No, I can't do this anymore," He gasped. His gaze caught hers and her outstretched hand fell to her lap at the burning pain in his eyes. "It hurts too much. This _hurts_, Max."

"I don't understand-"

"I want it to be like it was before!" He roared. Then his voice was subdued by frustration and he ran a hand through his hair, his blonde locks spiking every which way. "I want the friendship back, Max. I want the feelings we had. I want the touching and the laughing and the talking. I don't want everything we do to end up in the bedroom. I want you to actually look at me again; I want to see more in your eyes than goddamn wariness."

She gaped. Because it was like listening to a recording of herself. She was getting so tired of catching his gaze only to look away when the walls slammed into place between them. Tired of her inability to talk to him because she was scared of what she might let slip, scared of what he might say, scared that he would only continue to confirm his lack of interest in her, scared of being damaged. Did he really feel the same things that she did?

But if he even felt an ounce of what she felt… then did that mean… did he like her?

Or did he really and truly just want to go back to being friends?

She looked away in pain.

"Max, just tell me what you're thinking," he pleaded.

She swallowed, unable to look at him. "If you want to just be friends, than that's what we'll be," She said stiffly.

His eyes narrowed. "_Jesus_, I don't even know why I fucking bother." He pushed himself to his feet and she read his intent to leave in every tense line of his body. She followed him up, her only desire to stop him from walking away from her.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

His face twisted into a snarl. "Can't you be honest with me? If you don't like me, just come out and say so. Stop jerking me around."

"You're the one that's using me for sex," She huffed.

"_I'm_ using _you_? You're the one who fucking started it!"

"Well now I'm the one ending it!" She shouted, her fists balling at her sides. "I don't know what I was thinking getting tangled up with you anyway! You haven't changed a bit since that first day out of Manticore. It's still all about _you_! Nothing is ever _your_ fault! If I'd known what an asshole you really were, I'd have let White's bomb do its trick!"

It was harsh and it was cruel and she knew it even as the words were wrenched from her lips. But she hurt _so much_. And she wanted him to hurt just as much as she did.

Mission accomplished.

His eyes blazed with fire, and then like all fires eventually do, the green flames sputtered and died, leaving only hard lumps of deadened ash to stare back at her. When he finally spoke, a little bit of her died too.

"To think I was falling in love with a bitch like you."

He turned, ignoring the sob wrenched from her throat, moving stiffly away.

Her fist came up to her mouth, trying to stifle another broken sob threatening to erupt and failing miserably. She fell to a tensed crouch, her fist pressed to her bared teeth, her eyes welling in angry tears as she fought to control the emotional pain that was as sharp and tangible as a knife wound. He... he had liked her? And now she'd ruined _everything_. Her heart clenched in agony. Alec felt the ripcord of pain leading straight back to Max and faltered, for just a moment. And the little misstep made hope flare within her.

He liked her. Still.

So do something about it, her mind shouted at her. Open your fucking mouth, you stupid bitch. Tell him how you feel. Don't let him walk away from you.

Do _something_.

She opened her mouth, but no sound would come out. She tried again, but could not force the rebellious air past her lips. He snorted, shaking his head in anger and annoyance and disbelief and so many other things before moving away once more. She bit her lip and her eyes squeezed shut, unintentionally forcing some of those frustrated, angry tears down the side of her face. Don't walk away from me, she wanted to beg. Please. Turn around. Look at me. Stay with me.

...I need you...

But he wasn't stopping. Panic flared within her, nearly stopping her heart. The breath whooshed from her burning lungs, and her pained, broken whisper caught his ears.

"Don't leave me."

And Alec, poor, poor, stupid Alec, who could never deny her anything, didn't take another step.

But he didn't turn back to her either. He sat down, every muscle screaming at him to just _run_, and leaned forward, his arms coming up to rest on his bent knees, staring hard, broodingly, out across the ocean. Max could only feel relief, despite the fact that he wouldn't look at her. He was still here; he was still with her. And in a way, that was all that mattered.

More than that, though, Max was faced with the uncontrollable desire to make amends for her cruelty; to make things right.

Her soft voice, throaty from emotion, swept across the beach. "Remember, when we first got here? I said something; one step forward, three steps back?" It wasn't exactly an excuse, and it was pretty lame as far as explanations went, but it was the best she had.

He still wouldn't look at her. Yeah, he remembered. That simplistic statement of long ago still had the ability to haunt him with its direct honesty and undeniable truth. "I'd say we broke the mold on that one, Maxie baby. We barely even looked forward and ran screaming backwards, right off a cliff."

"I just wanted to say… sorry. For everything."

He did turn and look at her then, the depth of his green, green eyes showing all of the somberness that she herself felt. "Don't hear you say that much."

She glanced away, muttering darkly, wiping viciously at the tell tale tracks on the side of her face. "That's what friends do, right? Apologize when they've done something wrong?"

"Which part are you apologizing for, Max?" His head cocked. "The mating, the sex, or telling me you wanted my head to explode?"

"All three," She lied.

"Liar," he countered.

She rolled her eyes, throwing her hands up into the air in very real exasparation. "Oh, sure, you can tell I'm lying now, but couldn't tell when I said I only wanted to be friends."

He shrugged, the warm light of hope growing in his eyes. "Defense mechanisms are funny like that…" He paused, his soft gaze moving carressingly across her face. "You sayin' you want to be more than friends?" He realized his misstake almost immediately. He'd been too direct, asked for too much honesty... she was gonna push him away again...

Her eyes narrowed, unaware that her words would make his heart sing. "I'm not saying anything. Whether you like it or not, we're more than friends now. Get used to it."

There were so many ways he could go with that unexpected statement... Euphoria. Anger. Emotional declaration. He went with the easiest. Lighthearted misdirection. "Aw shucks, Max, you sure know how to sweet talk a guy,"

"Damn straight." She smiled, the last of her pain disappearing in a puff of smoke. He chuckled as the atmosphere noticeably lightened.

A good ten feet still separated the awkward positioning of their bodies.

He patted the sand next to him. "Come over here and we'll talk."

Her head cocked, her eyes narrowing, she asked stubbornly, "Why don't you come over here?"

"C'mon, Max, let me have my manly, alpha moment."

She sighed and came to her feet... moved towards him.

And stopped about five feet away.

He snorted.

But got up and met her halfway, just the same.

He smiled down into her eyes. "So, usually when one person tells another person they're kind of falling for that person, that other person reciprocates."

Her mouth twisted. "Most people don't declare their feelings while calling someone a bitch."

His finger twirled teasingly in one long tendril of her hair. "I've always been a charmer, what can I say?" He paused, waiting. When she didn't say anything his hand fell away, and one eyebrow quirked. "Sooo?"

She glared at him. Finally spitting it out. "Likewise."

"That's it?" His laugh was almost choked. She was so predictable, it was actually kind of funny. "Likewise?"

Her head cocked, daring him to push it.

He shrugged. "I can live with that." _For now._

"It's not like you really told me you like me either," she muttered.

Another shrug. Then a crooked grin as she stepped into him.

"Alec?" she asked softly, one hand running up his arm to curl in the hair at the nape of his neck.

"Max?" He countered with a smile, his own hands moving down her sides and around to rest against the small of her back.

"Let's never talk about this again."

He chuckled, low in his throat, pressing her into his body. "Fine by me."

She laughed softly, her fingers caressing his barcode. His eyes fell shut, taking in a slow breath. She didn't stay pressed against him for long. Her arms tightened around his neck and she pulled him down to her, lifting her face and letting her lips move over his with a surprising gentleness. It didn't take long for him to respond to her.

If the first time had been about pained gasps, then this time was about breathy moans. If the first time had been about scraping nails and bared teeth, then this time was about gentle fingers and soft smiles.

If their first time was a pure expression of abandonment and earthly delight, then this time was tender and, previous joking aside, it was probably the closest thing to a religious experience that either of them would probably ever encounter.

* * *

End Chapter Seven

* * *


	8. Chapter 8: The New Testament

A/N: Standard disclaimers apply. No happy dances for me, too busy giggling, but feel free to review. Remember how I said this was a guilty fic?

* * *

Castaway 

Chapter 8: The New Testament

* * *

A hundred times a day they came across the same old situations. And a hundred times a day, those situations were reborn in the light of their new relationship. 

The second calendar branch wasn't yet overloaded, but one day would be. Max, knowing that day would eventually come, wanted to start marking on the back wall of the hut. Alec thought they should stop keeping track all together. What did they need a calendar for? His body was well enough attuned to the shifting of the hours, the changing of the seasons. What did it matter if they knew how long they'd been here? What did it matter if they knew what day it was?

It mattered to him because it mattered to her. She liked knowing what day it was, what month it was. She liked the semblance of normalcy that it gave to her. Really, it was the _only_ semblance of normalcy they had. Their relationship was completely different, their way of life nowhere close to what it once had been. The abnormal was normal now and she needed _something _to hold on to. Besides Alec, that is.

Plus, the whole 'make a new tick mark' had become sort of a wakening ritual for her. It filled a few moments of time, which she did not have to fill with ponderous thoughts or psychic imperatives for Alec to 'wake up, already.' And when you have as much free time as they did, you fill every moment as best you can.

Sometimes, it was easy to forget they'd only been here eight months. It felt like they'd been here their whole lives. Like they'd been here an eternity. Not having pointless rituals, or T.V., or Eyes Only missions, or work, or anything other than each other to fill their time made each moment last twice as long as one thrown away hour back in civilization. Maybe that's why it'd only taken them eight months to sort through their confusion. If they'd stayed in Seattle and had to deal with life beyond the bare necessities of survival, maybe it would have taken them years. Maybe they'd never have gotten together. Part of Max realized that and each day that took them farther away from that Washington half-life they'd once lived, from the unappreciated relationships that they'd stumbled through barely half-awake, distracted by the meaningless tricks and treats around them... Each of those days was precious to her and she was going to keep track of them.

Still, he wouldn't let her keep track of the days on their wall. He said it was tacky. She told him she was hardly going to take a lesson in class from someone who, given the opportunity, would subsist on pork rinds and Jack Daniels. He shrugged, because she made a good point and Alec always knew when he'd been beat. She scowled, because, inexplicably, somewhere along the line, Alec's opinion had actually started to matter to her and now she couldn't keep track of days on the wall like she'd originally planned.

True to form, they had not spoken of emotions since that day all those weeks ago. It was easier that way. They weren't uneasy about the silence though, not like they'd been before. Maybe they hadn't said the words… Maybe they weren't entirely sure they really felt the words they hadn't said… But the fact that they'd both not said the words about the feelings they weren't sure they felt made them feel better.

It's a transgenic, emotionally stunted, combined relationship IQ of 12, kind of thing.

It was on day 273, March 31st to be eXact, well over a month after the infamous non-declaration, when Max knew without a doubt that she wanted more from him. Not physically… She didn't need Alec by her side 24/7 to be happy. Max, even though she wasn't 100 percent sure what she felt for him, wanted some clarity as to how he felt about her. To be precise, she wanted him to say it, really say it, without the 'bitch' and the 'falling' part. Just a simple declaration of a fact (not that she herself was gonna say anything). 

But she was the one who had insisted they not speak about their emotions in the first place, and rather than appearing like a wishy-washy, indecisive fool and bringing it up after she said they shouldn't… well… Instead of that, she let herself be moved by their lovemaking. Because when he touched her, she saw something spark in his eyes, something he usually controlled, something he couldn't control when he was moving over her. Something that looked a lot like longing. And damn if that something didn't make something deep within her long for him right back.

She didn't know why she wanted him to say it. Their bodies had already made the declarations for them when the Mate bond had snapped in place during her heat. She sighed at the reminder of the unasked for bond, but couldn't work up any annoyance. She'd been scared, right before her heat, that her nebulous feelings for Alec would replace her desire to mate with her desire to Mate. And she'd hit that nail on the head. If anything, she was a little pleased about the bond, because if nothing else it proved that Alec was just as crazy about her as she was about him… But it's one thing to know that the symphony of animals within Alec needed her. She wanted to hear the _man_ say he loved her. Stupid, huh? She snorted softly.

It was near the end of April that Alec started avoiding her around midday. After lunch he'd offer her a tight smile and head into the jungle. He'd come back about an hour later, visibly relaxed, and usually with something for dinner. No matter that they'd just eaten. If anything, it seemed like he was working out some aggression. Which was strange, because that was what sparring was for. Only they weren't sparring, because he was avoiding her after lunch, the time that they set aside for knocking each other about. She was tempted to be mad at him, but to be honest, she didn't feel much like kicking his ass anyway.

He didn't know why he couldn't stand the thought of sparring with her. Could be the feelings he had for her, the ones that swelled a little bit more with each passing day. Could be that he never again wanted to be a person that caused her pain, emotionally _or_ physically. He glanced down at dinner in his hand, his frown drawing his eyebrows together. Could be he wanted to fatten her up. He smirked.

After a week, he knew he couldn't keep avoiding the issue by getting dinner. So he thought up a new plan.

"Another room?" Her face twisted in a mixture of incredulity and amusement. "What for?"

"Storage," he said blandly. Her level gaze did nothing to wipe the deadpan expression from his face.

"Storage? For what, all the extra coconuts lyin' around?" She snorted. When he didn't elaborate, she rolled her eyes. "Whatev. Just don't think I'm helping you, handyman. Your brainchild, your labor."

He could live with that. And true to what she'd said, she didn't help him. But she did generally hang around a bit and pass him the knife when he needed it or held a piece in place when he was lashing walls together. None of which qualified as helping.

Not helping took more of her energy then she realized. By the middle of May, she was sleeping almost four hours a night. And she must have fallen into a habit, because when the last piece of roof went in place during the waning days of the month, she was still spending half the night curled into his side, sleeping peacefully. He could have mentioned it to her, but to be honest, he liked sleeping next to her too much to open his mouth.

Alec really did use the new room as a storage area. The life kit, which had been thrown in a corner in the front room, went in there. As did a little shelf he'd built. And all the little shells and large conches she'd collected. As well as the figurines he was actually getting damn good at making. And any extra food they had… a pile which was growing, because Alec kept bringing back extra on his days of lunch duty. Thanks to that, and the fact that after nine months, they'd finally mastered the art of smoking meat for preservation, Max never even really needed to go out on her days anymore. He only rarely brought back large game, not wanting to disturb the food chain, but when he did the treated pelts of those animals got tossed in a corner. Max's furs went on that pile as well, because she only ever slept in his bed now. Not to say that they didn't fight anymore. Just never got that bad that she flounced over to her side of the room, away from him. Okay. Maybe it never got that bad that he couldn't cajole her back into their bed.

The hut… well… it was bigger than a hut, now (and hut was a bad term, anyway, which, in Max's mind was synonymous with 'one room' and 'squalid' and a lot of other words that could never, ever apply to her home). Max thought 'house' was a better description, despite the fact it was made from bamboo. The house was really and truly home to them. It was like the storage room had clinched it, somehow. And far from freaking out, she'd turned around and laid one on him. Just 'cuz. He'd smirked in amusement, but his eyes were unable to hide the delight at the impromptu mushiness. Not that it was mushy, because Max didn't do mushy. She kissed him again, in a very non mushy, breath catching, heart thumping manner and he promptly forgot about all types of mushiness as his fingers flexed convulsively on her upper arms at the sudden rush of electric arousal. Just like she'd planned. Then she had her way with him. Which was also in the plan. It was a good plan.

It was the beginning of June, and they'd yet to say the words. But that was okay. Because even though he didn't say it, part of Max could feel it. Looking into his eyes, she could bask in the warm glow of his unspoken affection. And it was enough.

Sex was almost exclusively a gentle event. Yeah, a few times they really got in to it but Alec was always very careful, holding himself just enough in check that her body wasn't peppered with marks the next day. Not to say that she never got into it as much as she'd used to. He rolled his shoulders and winced, the scrapes her nails had left on his back stretching with his skin, awakening into a slow burn. Max caught his wince and blushed. And then leered at him. He couldn't control the grin. She shrieked as he lunged at her and laughing, they fell into the surf, Alec twisting around her so her landing would be cushioned by his body. He pressed a kiss to her temple and they just lay there for a long time, even after their soft chuckles had been replaced with soft, slow, smiles.

Max couldn't wait for her heat. She was a little frightened, honestly, because she'd never been with a transgenic during estrus before. And you know what they say; people are scared of the unknown, scared of what they don't understand. She didn't know what to expect, especially since it would not only be her first time with a transgenic during heat, but also her first time with her mate. Even though they didn't talk about the whole 'mate' thing. Ever.

June was shaping up to be a good month. There was only one problem.

The day of her heat came and went. And the second day came, and the second day fell away. Alec, true to non-calendar-heeding form, had no idea why Max was hyperventilating when he woke up on the day that should have been the third day of her cycle.

She didn't respond to his tersely asked, "What's wrong?", only pointed at the calendar.

He sighed, running a hand down his bleary face. "What holiday is it this time?"

She flung the stick at his head and stalked out of the hut. He barely managed to dodge the projectile in time, staring wide-eyed after her darkly muttering form.

He could have avoided her the rest of the day. Safety first, and all that. But he followed her out, because the days of avoiding each other were long past. "Max?" He called, trotting to keep up with her rapid pace.

She stopped abruptly, whirling to face him. He could tell she was about to spew acid… but held herself in check, a testament to how far they'd come. She sighed, pushing a hand through her hair in a gesture she'd obviously picked up from him.

"It's probably nothing." She sighed again. And wouldn't elaborate.

For a week, anyway.

A week later, his arms were wrapped around her and he was nuzzling the spot behind her ear that made her weak kneed.

"You smell different," He murmured.

She froze. "Do I?" She asked mildly. "How so?"

He shrugged, his mouth moving over her neck, his tongue flecking at the pulse point just below her earlobe. She worked through the rush of desire, her hands coming up to gently push him away.

"Different how?"

He frowned. "I don't know. Different." He shifted, unsure of how to explain it, and frankly uncomfortable talking about his ability to smell her, of all things. "Nothing too noticeable. Just an undercurrent… Must be hormones or something." Then his eyes brightened, his tongue crowding his teeth. "Isn't your heat due soon?"

Her eyes widened into an expression Alec hadn't seen in a very, very long time. He fondly referred to it as 'deer in the headlights'. Once upon a time, Max had gotten that look anytime Logan had walked into a room, catching Alec and Max in an easily misconstrued situation. Well, no Logan around now. So he didn't know what could have caused it... unless it had something to do with her hea-

He looked at her sharply. "Max? When's you heat due?"

"Last week," she replied, miserably.

His pained intake of air filled the silence.

"That doesn't mean anything, right?" He finally said, his forced laugh not doing much to make her feel better. "I mean, it's not like it's four months to the day, every time, right? Could just be running late, right?"

"Right," She muttered, her eyes skittering away. There'd been fluctuations in the past, enough so that she'd been caught off guard and hadn't been aware she was going into heat until it was upon her… But she didn't even have the faintest stirrings of rampant desire… If anything, she felt like she needed-

"Probably nothing," He shrugged, interrupting her thoughts.

She wondered why she was incapable of forming a sentence. "Right," She repeated, her expression dark. It probably had something to do with what she'd been about to think.

If anything, she felt like she needed to _snuggle_.

And that was just plain disturbing, no matter how you looked at it.

But then he was holding her and she was breathing him in, her eyes clenched in fear and disbelief and oh god, they both knew. As unbelievable and as sudden as it was, they both _knew_.

"How could this happen?" She asked miserably. Then pulled away slightly, glancing up at him sharply. "Don't answer that."

"Wasn't going to say a thing." He replied honestly, his expression somber.

Although, yeah, it was fairly obvious _how _it'd happened. What? Did they really think they could hump like bunnies and not have anything happen? Really, given how the last few months had gone, it'd have been more amazing if she _hadn't_ gotten pregnant. That didn't make it any more believable, though.

They'd never even admitted they loved each other, not really. Not in the normal, human, acceptable fashion.

They didn't say another word until they were back in their home, sitting at their table, pondering their predicament.

"I can't have a kid," Her head fell into her hands.

He didn't say a thing, his hazel eyes darting towards her and then back to the prick of light that had wormed its way through the bamboo wall. He nodded, only slightly, the barest concession that he'd even heard her.

Max looked up and glared at him. Then the glare dropped away as the panic once more set in. "Say something," She pleaded.

He sighed, pressing a hand to his suddenly tired eyes. "What do you want me to say, Max?"

Any word that might have escaped her closing throat wouldn't have made it past her clenched teeth. His hand fell away and he glanced at her, his eyes sparking in amusement at her consternation. Until he remembered what they were talking about and the desperate desire for hard liquor overtook his amusement.

The silence was a tangible presence, a dark serpent coiling around the room, squeezing the air from their bodies.

"I mean-" He began.

"I just-" She started at the same time. They glanced at each other. Looked away. Looked back. And away again.

More silence.

"It's probably-"

"I'm sure-"

Alec sighed, shoving a hand roughly through his hair and then gesturing for her to continue. "You first."

She looked down, playing with the fraying hemline of her shirt. "Floor's all yours."

He cleared his throat… "I really…" The words died in his throat and in the vacuum of thought, the truth came tumbling out, "…need to get out of here."

She slumped in relief. "Oh, thank god." She stood, making a beeline towards the door. He was hot on her heels.

"Meet back here in an hour?" She glanced up at him.

His clouded eyes swept across her troubled face. "Better make it two."

Two relieved transgenics moved away from each other, their pace fast and sure. Max headed up the rocky slope to the higher ground of the waterfall. Alec headed into the jungle.

He stopped at the tree line. She paused as she began her climb. They turned to each other simultaneously, their eyes immediately connecting. She offered him a small smile, he gave her a serious nod.

_Be careful... _

_I'll be back. _

She shot him a warning glance. He winked.

_Two hours._

_Trust me. _

Alec turned from her, slipping into the trees in silence, his smile fading away. A kid? He paused for a moment, a hand coming up to steady himself against a trunk as dizziness overwhelmed him. Why was it so hard to breathe all of a sudden? His eyes snapped open and his fist slammed into the bark, his face twisting into a snarl. Don't think. Can't think. Need to go.

Alec took off running.

She's just made it to the top of the waterfall when the forest near their home descended into an eerie hush. Her smile didn't reach her eyes. A predator was out and about; that was the only thing that could shut up those damn birds. Her smile was humorless because she knew exactly what, or rather, who, those animals were hunkering away from.

Her mate.

Her 100 percent freaking out, not-ready-to-be-a-parent, mate.

Not that she was doing much better. Alec might be going to his dark place, but Max was well on her way to her grey place; the place where everything became strangely numb and unbearably painful at the same time. The pain was there, sharpened by her focus upon it, but her consciousness refused to bend in discomfort as it systematically worked through problems and solutions.

She couldn't have a kid.

It wasn't in the plan.

Although, she wasn't really sure what the plan was, to be honest. Lots and lots of great sex with Alec until they got rescued or died, whichever came first?

The thought gave her pause.

Until they got rescued or died, whichever came first? If they made it off this island, would she give Alec up? Is that what she'd been planning? Was she only upset because a child changed everything? Was she really that fickle? That heartless? Or was she still unsure of her emotions?

Suddenly her problems were so much more than the thought of what might be growing within her. She swallowed as something became glaringly apparent. Before she even started on the possibility of a baby, she'd have to examine her feelings for Alec and what it was she wanted from him.

Crap.

She should have asked for three hours.

He didn't know where he was going, not really. He followed his feet. He let his body take control. His brain was just along for the ride. And in that detached state, he was aware of his thoughts, but did not pursue them. Let the thoughts drift in and out of his consciousness, taking note of them, but focusing more upon where his next foot would fall. _Sort of like that meditation crap_, one thought wafted across his mind, only to slip back into obscurity as his legs gathered strength, propelling him over a fallen log.

She frowned, looking out across the ocean, their home below, then at the trees behind her. This wasn't nearly high enough for the deep thinking she planned. She turned, following the river upstream. She knew the perfect spot for what she had in mind.

He'd known. Almost from the beginning. And he didn't like knowing that he'd known, didn't like the knowledge that his instincts had overridden his brain without authorization. That his instincts had him performing like a trained monkey, his brain limping along behind, making up half cocked excuses. His refusal to spar, his refusal to hurt her for fear of the baby, justified as his refusal to hurt her because of his nameless emotions. His desire to feed her, justified as an outlet for aggression. The desire to protect her. The need to stop her from pulling lunch duty. The extra room.

Storage. He snorted. Even when it'd popped from his mouth the first time, he'd known it was lame.

Then he staggered to a halt, his chest heaving.

That wasn't all there was to it, his mind warned.

It was more than instinctual knowledge of her pregnancy. He really _hadn't_ wanted to hurt her. Really _did_ want to protect her.

Really was in _love_-

Birds took flight as his pained roar echoed through the trees.

Max shuddered as she broke through the trees and on to the high clearing. Sounded like something was dying. The noise was forgotten as her soul was soothed and everything became sharp. Yes. This was high enough.

It was that first clearing. The one that they'd discovered all those months ago, when they'd first gotten here. The one you could see almost the entire island from. The trees spread out below. The waters, stretching towards the horizon.

It wasn't so much a matter of height when it came to Max's need. It was a matter of perspective. Like if she could see everything in the physical world clearly, than everything would become clearer within her own mind. It didn't make a lot of sense. More of an instinctual, comfort thing than anything else. But it helped. Helped her put voice to the thoughts that usually only swirled in confusion in her subconscious. Helped her sort through them. And sometimes just looking at the landscape was enough to make even the glaringly apparent apparent to her.

_I love him._

The sudden, unexpected force of the thought made her stumble.

_I can't love her._ He flinched away from a branch, his feet pounding into the soft dirt below.

_People I love die._ He didn't move far enough to the side, a stray twig snagged his flesh in passing. The flare of fire across his arm only added more turmoil to his inner cacophony.

_And a baby? Someone else to hurt? Someone else to fail? You ready for that, 494? _

"Alec," He snarled.

_There's no hospitals out here. What if she dies? What if they both die? That's just the kind of fucked up irony that fate likes to dish out._ It was getting harder to stay detached from his thoughts. His face tightened in fear. Because he couldn't live without her. Didn't even want to think of the possibility of living without her. Because she was so much more than a Mate. And even though the thing growing within Max was still only a mass of cells, it was automatically included in his fear. Because it was a child; his child. And he loved it more than life already.

Wonder rose up to join the fear. Pain came with it. _Shouldn't have been me. This should have been Logan's kid. _

_She wouldn't have Mated to Logan, _his mind pointed out The thought, once started, had to be followed to completion, as painful as it was. _She wouldn't, but not because she wouldn't want to; because he's an Ordinary and she couldn't. But she would have married him. It would have been more than instinct with them. Would have been something they'd chosen, not something that'd just snapped into place during a fucked up heat episode. _

_But Logan's not here. I'm her mate. She's having my child. _

_Why isn't that enough?_

She turned as he stumbled into the clearing, winded. He caught sight of her and every thought, every notion, was silenced. The fear and exertion claimed him, sending him to his knees even as she started moving towards him. Then she was before him, gently holding his shoulders as he pressed his face to her stomach, gripping the waist of her jeans like it was a lifeline, letting his eyes fall shut.

The last time they'd been here, he'd been the one to comfort her. The one to say-

"It'll be okay," She said softly, her fingers moving gently through his hair.

"How?" He rasped. He looked up at her and she watched darkness cross his face. She knew what he was planning even before his hands moved from her side, headed towards the fly of her jeans.

"That won't fix anything." She pulled herself from him, but her voice was just as gentle as her hands had been. "If anything, that's the reason we're in this whole mess in the first place."

He glanced away, let himself fall back onto his ass. He didn't seem happy about her rejection at all, but Max couldn't let him lose himself at a time like this. The whole reason they were in this mess is because they'd been substituting sex for an honest to god discussion. For the first time ever, they were gonna sit and talk and figure this bitch out. Even if he had interrupted her before she could sort any of it out on her own. But that was okay; they were gonna talk about it anyway.

Because a baby changed everything.

His rumbling voice shook her from her thoughts. "There aren't any hospitals here."

She arched one eyebrow, surprised. Hadn't been expecting him to jump in the conversation at the halfway point. Guess he'd already accepted that yeah, she was pregnant. She could have been sarcastic and thrown out something like 'Oh really? No hospitals? Hadn't noticed…' but she got the gist of what he was saying.

"People were having babies without hospitals long before you and I were cooked up." She pointed out.

"Yeah, and the mortality rate was higher then," he snapped. Max's eyes widened as the realization set in. That's what was causing the sucking aura of darkness around her mate? He was scared? Of losing her? Of losing a baby that wasn't even large enough yet to be considered a baby?

"Alec, nothin's going to happen,"

He could have argued, but he let it die at that. His head fell. "We can't have a kid, Max."

She sighed, sitting next to him. "We don't have much of a say in it, now."

She could accept that she was pregnant. She could accept that she'd sort of known since last week when her heat hadn't come. The signs had been there. Her sudden desire for more than one hour of sleep a night. Her avoidance of sparring. Her creepy need to snuggle. The fact that she wasn't mad at him, even though he'd been instinctually shielding her from harm for over a month now. Yeah. Pretty safe to say she was pregnant.

Why wasn't she freaking out more? Maybe because, for some reason, she was more worried about him right now. Because he looked so lost and afraid. She could freak out later. Right now she just wanted to fix him. She leaned in to his side. His arm came up automatically to grasp her waist.

"We have nothin' to offer a child," He rambled on, as though he hadn't heard her. And his expression was so dark, she honestly thought he hadn't. "We're on a frickin' island. No medicine, no friends, no home-"

"Shut up," She snapped, her patience fraying abruptly. No home? The island was their home. As was the house they'd built together on the beach. She pulled from him, coming back to her feet.

And caught sight of his somber expression. The annoyance died. She remembered that she was trying to make that expression go away. "You think this is the first kid born into these circumstances?" She asked, softly.

He arched on eyebrow. Uh… yeah. He did think that. Damn it, just when she'd gotten a handle on her annoyance, too.

"Yeah, we're on an island. We're out of our league. I get that." She scowled. "But what do you propose we do about it?"

"Max, I have nothing to offer a kid," He sighed.

She smiled blithely. "You mean besides good looks, better genes, and a great sense of humor?"

His eyes snapped up to hers and he barked out an angry laugh that wasn't nearly as painful to her as his bitter sarcasm. "A mask that means _nothing_, animal DNA, and an inability to deal with _anything_ seriously? Yeah Max, those are _real_ winning traits."

She stumbled a tiny bit back in surprise. "Alec," She protested weakly. He looked away, his expression unreadable.

Alec hardly ever let that side of himself out. That dark, brooding stranger who hated himself and Manticore more than he ever let on. She'd gotten a glimpse of it during the Berrisford fiasco, and even a smaller glimpse the day he'd tried to warn her away from Logan, the same day she infected the Ordinary at Crash. But to let that side of himself into the open now… He really was scared, she realized in surprise. Terrified. He really didn't think he could do this.

"Alec, I'm just as scared as you are," Her voice was soft. "What do I have? A serotonin deficiency that Manticore had to fix; something they didn't fix particularly well, for that matter… Something that could still be passed on to this kid? Lines and lines of that same animal DNA, plus the added bonus of hidden, mystical messages where junk DNA should be?" She paused, her eyes caressing his bent head. "A streak of bitchiness that would put an entire kennel to shame?"

His chuckle was soft and low, but it kept her smile from dying.

"We can do this, Alec." Her gentle insistence had him looking up, catching her gaze as she came to her knees in front of him. The warm light in her eyes dissipated the cold darkness that had been gripping his soul.

"Shouldn't I be the one comforting you?" He muttered, glancing away in embarrassment.

The words of all those months ago came ringing back. She grinned. "Yeah, well, you suck at girly stuff."

His smile was humorless. "Damn straight."

She rolled her eyes. "Yeah, Alec, I know; you're all man."

His smile became real… and turned into a roguish grin as he sprang at her, pushing her to her back. His arm wrapped around her, tightening, gentling her fall right as she'd been about to hit the dirt. She rolled her eyes. Again. It was practically becoming a theme.

"Okay, your fear of hurting me?" She looked up at him, an eyebrow arching. "I appreciate the whole instinctual effort and everything; God knows your body knew I was pregnant before either of us did…but seriously. I'm not gonna break."

He shrugged, his free hand trailing down her throat, roving across her collarbone. "Just tryin' to protect you from my rampant manliness." Her breath caught as his fingers glanced across her breast. But he wasn't stopping, the hand kept moving. As her body hummed to life, she couldn't help but wonder why he was still talking.

"I was serious when I said I don't have anything." His tone was conversational as his fingers paused slightly at her waist, flexing against the dark material, moving down and then back up, under her shirt, to brush at her smooth skin. "Not a thing to my name. We share everything on this island, including my clothes." So, she liked to sleep in his shirt sometimes. She scowled. Big deal.

Her breath caught as his hand slipped back down. And then resumed when he didn't go for the obvious, but dipped into his own pocket. Pulling something out.

A small, misshapen pearl.

"This is really the only thing I own." He said musingly, staring at it, unaware that her breath had stopped once more, held tight in burning lungs. He glanced up at her, at her wide eyes. She knew how deadly serious he was because of how unreadable his face had become. "I want you to have it."

She stared wide-eyed for a long moment. He shifted uncomfortably. "Whaddya say, Max?" His quicksilver smile wasn't enough to disguise the uncertainty in his eyes. "Wanna be the keeper of my last possession?"

She didn't say anything. Because she was too busy slamming her mouth over his in desperation. In happiness. In twenty million other emotions.

In love.

_Never letting you go._ The force of the desperate thought shook her entire body. She gasped as his lips moved to her throat. _Never.

* * *

_

_July_

July 2nd. The 365th day on the island. The one year anniversary of making landfall. Of being stranded. True, he didn't keep track of her heat; he let her take care of that. But if New Year's Day was day 184 then today was definitely day 365. One year and one week since an explosion on an ill-equipped cruise liner had changed everything. One year, two weeks, and three days since they'd last seen Seattle. Almost two years since he'd sauntered into a garishly lit cell in grey army fatigues and had his whole life turned upside down.

Was he happy?

He looked over at Max who'd stretched her shirt tight over her abdomen, frowning in concentration as she looked for any sign of the life within her.

You bet your ass he was.

Everything was different now. They were in new, uncharted territory. And despite how different everything was, how terrible their isolated situation could appear to someone from the outside… Despite it all he wouldn't undo what had happened to them for anything in the world.

Then he realized it was lunchtime and it was her day for lunch duty. He casually sauntered to the table, lifting the blade from the surface with equal casualness. He tucked the knife into his jeans at the small of his back, hoping she wouldn't notice. When he realized she had, he offered her a saccharine smile.

Alec knew why he was so opposed to her doing anything remotely threatening. Which meant he was better able to control it. Which she appreciated, because pregnant or not, she didn't want to be treated like a china doll. He sighed, handing the knife to her scowling form as she headed out to get lunch.

Not to say he was happy about it, though. And not to say she didn't appreciate his attempts to protect her enough that she never put herself in unnecessary risk. Usually she just added fruit to their stock piles.

Back to the matter at hand… What do you get someone for a one year anniversary of being stranded on a deserted island? More importantly, what do you get that says 'hey, I'm happy this happened to us, now please don't hurt me for implying that I'm wouldn't change the fact that we're thousands of miles from civilization and will never see another human being again, except of course for the kid that'll pop out of you soon because I knocked you up and hey, put down that rock because by the way I love you more than life itself.'

He scowled. Should have saved the pearl for this day.

Instead, he went against every instinct and ounce of self preservation in his body. Gave her something he'd never given her before. His voice.

Her eyes were drifting close. His arm tightened around her. Yeah, it'd taken him till night fall to work up the courage. So?

"Max?" he asked, half hoping she was asleep. No such luck. She nodded slightly, her small fingers tracing the back of his larger hand. He was struck by déjà vu and it took him a moment to work through it. And by then her head turned to so she could look at him in confusion and he didn't know if he could go through with it if she was actually looking at him.

"What?" She asked, her brows lifting at his panicked look.

"Nothing," He muttered, head falling back down. She looked at him for a moment in suspicion, before letting her head pillow once more on his outstretched arm.

His head craned over hers, his breath caressed her ear. "Max, I love you."

Her heart swelled… and shattered, and sang, and drowned, and flew, and rejoiced and so many other things as well. She didn't realize that her gasp had caught in her throat until her lungs started to burn. She sucked in a shaky breath and the desire to look at him became overwhelming. She tried to roll so she could face him, but she was too close to him to begin with and really only succeeded in pushing herself more securely against his front.

He chuckled, low in his throat.

"Yeah," She muttered, "Laugh at the pregnant lady, that'll go over well."

His fingers flexed on her flat stomach and he smiled into her hair. She sat up and twisted around so she could look at him.

"You mean it?" She asked softly.

His face twisted in discomfort at being put on the spot. At being watched by those large brown eyes. He shifted. And then he wondered, was it really that surprising to her? With the heat and the mating and the way they'd tiptoed around it for months and the damn pearl that he'd given to her in lieu of a wedding ring… "Of course I mean it."

"Good." She smiled, falling back down next to him. Snuggling, again, into his strong arms.

He'd be woken up an hour later as her lips brushed gently against his.

"I love you, too." She whispered.

His hands buried in her hair, and he paused a moment, looking at her in awe, before pulling her hungrily back to his mouth.

She'd probably been about two months or so along when her lack of heat had forced them to wake up and smell the obvious. Which meant she was well into her third month and it didn't take much longer for her to finally start showing, just a slight swell above the rise of her jeans. Then he really did start treating her like glass and she'd been forced to smack him upside the head a few times to remind him otherwise.

That slight sign also had another consequence. She finally had a good reason to use that 'freak out' session she'd been saving up. He just stood before her ranting form, arms folded casually across his chest, nodding at her finer points.

"We don't know _anything_ about kids." She pointed out. He nodded. "And c'mon, we're on an island. What if something happens-"

Alec interrupted her gently. "Nothin's gonna happen, Max. People were having babies without hospitals long before us."

"Uh, yeah," She snarked. If he was gonna throw her words back in her face, then she'd do the same damn thing. "And the mortality rate was also higher then, smart guy."

He brushed a strand of hair from her shoulder. "Max, I promise, we're gonna be okay."

And as stupid as it was, hearing him say that made her feel a little bit better.

"Besides," he grinned. "If Normal, of all people, can deliver a baby, than so can we."

Which reminded Max of Gem's pained grunts. And she remembered exactly what having a baby entailed. Getting it out. Her face went ashen.

He didn't know why she'd gone so pale all of a sudden. Something to do with Normal? What had Normal used? Hot water and rags and that was about it, right? Granted they had no hot water. Or rags. But they had running water and furs and it'd have to do. He pointed it out. And then ducked as she took a swing at him.

"Are you forgetting something?" She shrieked. "The part where I have to push it out of my body?"

"Aww, Maxie. You can handle it."

He wasn't fast enough and his joking remark cost him a fist to the face. He rubbed at his chin, his jaw working to make sure she hadn't unhinged the joint. When he realized that, pain aside, he was fine, he scowled at her. "Jeez, Max, I was just kidding."

She sniffed in cold annoyance, saying nothing.

He hoped that these sudden mood swings weren't going to become a way of life. Max was volatile on a normal day. He didn't even want to consider what pregnancy hormones could do to her. Or more importantly, what they could do to him through her.

Then her face crumpled and all of his thoughts ground to a sudden and unexpected stop.

"This can't be happening," She moaned, hiding her face in her hands.

They'd never talked about it, not really. The whole idea of a baby had been too surreal, too tremulous. Part of them had still been waiting for her heat to make a sudden, unexpected, month late appearance. But now, that slight swell above the low rise of her jeans. That small sign. That irrefutable proof. Now they really were going to have to talk about it.

Alec stiffened as she hid her expression from him. Even though they'd finally made emotional admissions, he couldn't help but wonder which part she was more upset about. The fact that she was having a kid, or that fact that she was having _his_ kid. Was she hiding thoughts of an almost middle aged man behind those hands as well? He couldn't ask her, because he was terrified of her answer.

One of her hands came away from her face and she groped blindly for his hand. He wasn't sure if she was reacting for his pain or her own but he caught her hand and their fingers interlocked and they sat there in silence, their fear and uncertainty making every thought laborious and confusing. They sat there and held on to the connection between their bodies because they weren't sure what else to hold on to.

And that's when it really and truly hit him.

"We're having a baby," He said and she looked up at the wonder that had crept into his voice.

The corner of her mouth lifted in a slow, gentle, warm way. "Yeah," she breathed. "I guess we are."

* * *

_August_

He didn't know when he'd realized that he loved their unborn child more than life itself. Wait. Yes, he did. All those weeks ago during his desperate run through the forest. But then, he had loved it as a surreal sort of _idea. _As the weeks had passed and the child had grown, his love had grown with it. Not only because the child was an extension of Max. Not only because it was part of him. Not only because for the first time in the history of Alec and 494 together, he could say he had a _family_. Also because the kid was making a mark on the physical world. A combination of effects including the way Alec treated Max, the way Max treated herself, and of course, the obvious. He smiled.

Max frowned.

"Knock it off," she hissed.

He stopped immediately, looking up at her. "What?" He asked innocently.

"It's not like the thing can hear you. It's unnerving to watch you talk to my stomach."

He shrugged, looking back down at the growing swell of her belly. "Don't listen to her. She's just jealous 'cuz I like you better."

Max rolled her eyes in exasperation.

But part of her fell in love with him all over again.

The rest of her shoved him away. But she couldn't help that her dark eyes scanned his face quickly, checking for signs of hurt. Couldn't help that she looked away, pleased, when none became evident and he smiled at her.

She shouldn't be scared of hurting Alec's feelings, damnit.

Only she was, because she knew he felt so much and showed so little and the progression of their relationship and of how she dealt with him wouldn't let her _not_ be afraid. But Alec had done a little bit of growing up as well, in part, helped by Max. As it became more and more evident that she didn't want to hurt him, he became less and less defensive, less likely to take the offence at the things she did, until he could take most of her acid with his customary roll of the eyes. Difference being that there was no cringing underneath the roll, no wounded feelings he hid with a quip.

Part of Max wondered if Logan would ever have loved her if she'd ever treated him the same way she'd treated Alec in Seattle. Then started as she realized she hadn't thought of Logan in months. Then promptly forgot all about Logan when Alec tucked a strand of her hair behind her ear, pressed a kiss to her temple, and told her he was getting lunch.

"Monkey?" She asked hopefully.

"Anything for my monkey eatin' fiend." He winked at her.

* * *

_September_

"Alec?" The mildness of her voice immediately put him on his guard.

"Max?" He replied, body tense and frozen.

"Do you think I'm fat?"

Every fiber of his being screamed in warning.

He couldn't help it, though.

"Yes." He said, with as straight a face as possible.

"WHAT?!"

"Don't want to hear the answer, don't ask the question, Maxie baby." He grinned cheekily. She lunged at him, and even though she was a hair slower than she'd been a few months ago, she managed to give him a good smack upside the head.

He turned from her with a smile, and she had the sneaking suspicion that he'd let himself get caught by the blow. So her foot innocently slipped between his and he crashed to the ground when it accidentally got tangled up as he was walking away.

His head turned so he could glare up at her from his spot in the dirt.

"What?" She blinked innocently.

"You did that on purpose." He accused.

"Don't want to hear the answer, don't ask the question, Alec baby." Her voice was so bland, he couldn't help but laugh.

"Alas, mated to a sadist." He stood, shaking his head sadly.

She scowled. "_Me_? You're the one who just told a hormonal, pregnant lady that she was fat."

"Nah, Max. That doesn't make me a sadist. That makes me a masochist."

She was getting bigger though. Her shirt wouldn't be able to handle her changing body for much longer. Alec told her that if she wanted to walk around naked, that was okay by him. He was only mostly joking. Then he told her that if she wanted to go tribal on him and make some clothes out of the spare pelts in the baby's room, that was okay too. He meant it only slightly less jokingly.

He handed over his shirt with a grumble.

"What am I supposed to wear?"

She let her eyes caress his broad shoulders and the wonderful, wonderful muscles in his arms that were losing the lankiness of youth and becoming sturdier. Her eyes moved down the tanned chest that tapered to a narrowed waist and the clearly defined abs that only living on an island could give you (i.e. constant physical activity and eating nothing but 'health' food). Max had seen a Roman sculpture, once, when she'd pinched some classical art from a museum where it obviously didn't belong. That Adonis had nothing on hers.

"Max?" She looked up sharply at him. "You got a little something…" he trailed off, brushed the side of his own mouth in helpfulness. "_Right here_."

"Ass," she muttered. But didn't deny it.

"Really, Max, I know you're fascinated and all, but I'm not giving up my pants, too."

* * *

_October_

She was sitting petulantly by the table when he woke up. He blearily rubbed the sleep from his eyes, leaning in the door frame. "What's up?"

"We don't have any mangoes," She sulked.

He blinked at her in confusion. When she didn't elaborate he ran a palm down his face, having a bad feeling about where this was headed. "And?"

She frowned at him, her eyes narrowing. "I want mango."

"Max, are mangoes even in season?"

"I _want_ mango." She ground out. The warning rang loud and clear.

He sighed. He retreated into their room and pulled on his jeans. As he was leaving, he shot her one last glance.

"You're sure?"

She continued staring mutinously at him.

He paused at the doorway. "Can I at least have my shirt?"

Her icy glare was the only response. He sighed again, ducking out of their home. She followed him out, beaming.

It took him about half an hour to find one small, unripe mango. It was the only one remotely edible he could find, the rest too young and unlikely to come to fruition until the warmer 'winter' months still to come. He dropped it before her. She didn't take any note of his exasperation, instead picking up the fruit, rolling it between her hands, sniffing at the hard skin.

"Do we have any parrot?" She asked, her voice small.

He turned on his heel, marching into the jungle.

It took another half hour to catch the damn bird.

She took one look at the dead animal, turned, and vomited into the sand.

He sighed, tossing away the parrot, crouching down to rub at her back.

This'd be an easier thing to deal with if it weren't an every other day occurrence.

When she was done, he pulled her into his chest and wiped at the moistness under her eyes. He brushed a kiss across her forehead.

"This sucks," she finally managed in a throaty voice. He didn't say anything, but she could feel his agreement plainly enough.

He finally said, "Why don't you go hop in the water… You'll feel better. I'll take care of the mess," and she looked up at him.

"Eew. No. I'll take care of it."

He arched one eyebrow. "Max, I think I can handle it. Cover it with a bit of sand, it'll be like it never happened." He was well away that that was what she had been doing the last couple of days to hide her nausea from him. Her face colored but she remained stubborn.

"No," She repeated emphatically.

"Seriously, Max. I've seen bits of my own bone, before. I've seen people's brains spray against a wall. You really think a little bit of vomit is gonna bother me?"

She turned a little bit green around the overly dramatic 'brain' declaration, but she stood by her argument, standing stubbornly. He followed her to his feet, sighing.

"C'mon, Max. Don't you realize that I love every bit of you." His eyes swept behind her tensed form at the wet sand behind her. "Even the disgorged, mushy, orange bits?"

She started, and relaxed, rolling her eyes as it became obvious she wasn't gonna win this one. "You are so gross," She muttered, turning on her heel and moving towards the waterfall.

"It's why you love me!" He called after her.

She smiled. "Yeah," She said softly. "It's one of the reasons..."

He smirked at her back. Then turned, letting his eyes flick over the sand in a mixture of amusement, clinical detachment, and distaste. Which was also why Max loved him. Because even though a small part of him really did think it was gross, he was more worried about making her feel better.

* * *

_November_

"Alec?"

"For the one millionth time… You're not fat, you're pregnant."

She frowned in speculation, looking at her feet, then at him and opened her mouth.

He cut her off. "I don't care how swollen your ankles are, you are not fat."

Her eyes widened, then glanced down at her ankles, then back up at him. Then back down again. Oh crap.

"You hungry?" He asked, his voice hopeful.

Was she hungry? Was any seven months pregnant (give or take a few weeks) woman hungry? Maybe. But the urge to hurt him was stronger. Followed closely by the urge to weep.

Fucking hormones.

She couldn't wait 'til they closed the chapter on this stage of their life. The anger she could deal with. It was the flip side she had problems handling. If she cried _one more time _after he told her he loved her-

He frowned at her serious expression. "Max, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to hurt your feelings. And swollen ankles or not, you know I love you."

Her eyes welled in tears.

He controlled the smile, his expression becoming tender. "Max, don't cry."

"Shut up," She snarled through the happy tears of wonder. She'd never wanted to kill anyone more. So why was she falling into his arms, sniffling against his chest? How could she love someone so much and be so angry at the same time?

Fucking hormones.

Not everything was a painful, angry mess though. Sometimes Max was so happy, she thought she might burst.

If she'd stayed in Seattle, would she even be alive right now? Would she have gotten this opportunity? Would she finally have seen beyond Alec's mask and to the mate beyond?

Or would she be dead, a sacrificial lamb broken upon the altar of the world so that humanity might live? Dead before she ever had a family. A real family. A normal family that she hadn't been aware she'd even wanted.

Or maybe she would have lived. Maybe she would have married Logan. Maybe, if they found the cure, she'd be able to control the fear of touching him that had started long before she'd had a virus. Maybe she'd overcome it and they'd be married in a church and she'd tell everyone her name was Maxine, and she'd sneak away at night to lead the transgenic underground. Maybe she'd have Logan's kid and finally be forced to stop going on Eyes Only missions. Maybe she'd have continued to watch Alec, carefree Alec, romp through the bars, breaking hearts, breaking her heart, living the life that she had once embraced so freely. Maybe she would have continued to hold a nameless grudge for the unexplained jealousy she wouldn't be able to shake away.

Or maybe Alec would have died. White's vindictive nature would ensure that Alec would have been chased 'til the end of his days. Maybe the inevitable would have caught up with her Golden Boy and a bullet would finally be aimed well enough to end a life that had changed hers.

And rather than being depressing, the thoughts filled her with deep, unrepentant joy that they were _here_. That they weren't _there_. That they were together, always together. That she had a family, a real, almost normal, nuclear family. The type of family she hadn't known she wanted.

Some nights they stayed up and whispered together. About what the baby might be like. Whether it was a boy or girl. What they would call him or her. Who the child would take after. The stayed up and dreamed and whispered like any other parents on the planet, despite their situation. Or maybe, because of their situation.

* * *

_December_

Max didn't walk so much anymore as she waddled. And Alec, watching her, couldn't help the gentle amusement. It made him feel sort of like an ass, but he couldn't help it. He didn't feel too bad, because that undercurrent of tenderness was there; was always there lately. Not only in him, but in her as well.

It seemed fairly obvious that by the end of this month or the next, the baby would come. And part of him was sad that they'd be closing this chapter of their life behind them. Partly because, after being pregnant for eight, going on nine, months, knowing about it for six... Alec didn't think Max would ever let him have sex with her again. Not after the nausea, and the vomiting, and the ankles, and the waddling, and the hormones, and the crying, and the birthing which would surely come and would undoubtedly be unpleasant. He sighed.

He didn't think he could resign himself to a life of Max and celibacy, especially when so many of his Max-thoughts were so delightfully uncelibate. He paused, scolding himself for the complete derailment of his thoughts. He couldn't help it though. He hadn't gotten any in a few months, the any in that sentence being of any sort. (thanks in part to their complete bewilderment concerning what exactly you _could _do whilst pregnant, resulting in nothing of any sort for Max, just to be safe. And then Max had stubbornly declared if she wasn't able to get additional extracurricular benefits, he sure as hell wasn't getting any either) Even if he didn't want it to, his mind kept dancing back to pictures of naked Max and wonderful things he'd do to naked Max when they were through this. If she let him.

The rest of him would miss her pregnancy for entirely different reasons.

The uncharacteristic tenderness.

The crying whenever he told her he loved her (yeah, it could grate on the nerves sometimes, and it could make him worried other times, but for the most part it made him melt in a strictly masculine way).

Taking care of her, having a real reason to be defensive and protective of her. (that was just the alpha male in him, so he tried not to count that as a reason, even though it really was.)

The knowledge that yeah, they really would have to be careful from now on, because they weren't lookin' to populate the island. (No way in hell he'd ever put her in this much risk again)

His large hand moved across the larger swell of her stomach, waiting for signs of life from within. She smiled at him, impulsively leaning forward to brush a kiss against his lips.

Did he mention the tenderness?

Alec couldn't understand why she hated the pregnancy hormones so much.

* * *

_January_

It was a grey January morning when Max steadied herself against a tree, looked down, and shrieked in fear for Alec.

It was a grey January noon whilst Alec paced slowly up and down the length of the cleared riverbank, Max at his side, reminding her to keep breathing, keep moving. She just wanted to lie down and rest. Gem got to lie down. Why couldn't she? Alec wouldn't let her; made her keep walking. Max hated Alec.

It was a grey January afternoon when Alec held her hand, even after the bones had started grinding together and she'd had just enough faculty of mind to stop herself from breaking his offering when the contractions came faster and closer together and the pain began. He bore his own pain without a grimace and whispered soothingly to her. Max loved Alec.

It was a grey January evening when Max gave birth to a little boy. It was grey January day when they realized he wasn't breathing. It was a grey January eternity when Max turned wide eyes on Alec. He could feel the force of her thoughts._ Make this better._ But he didn't know how. All he could do is look at the baby a little helplessly. Max hated Alec, and she hated herself, but most of all she hated their complete lack of knowledge.

"Do something," She begged, her breath ragged.

Do what? Hit the kid? No way Alec was gonna do that. His eyes ran over the boy's face and he reached up, wiping a think substance away from his small nostrils. Then his brow furrowed and he opened the baby's mouth, running his pinky across the small tongue, clearing fluid away.

And the boy sputtered, coughed, hacked, and promptly started wailing.

Max had never loved _anyone_ the way she loved Alec.

The new, unprepared, thankful parents simultaneously breathed twin sighs of relief. Max collapsed back against the tree, her eyes falling shut in exhaustion as the last of her contractions passed. Alec gently cleaned the boy's body with water from the stream and wrapped him in a pelt that had been abandoned from Max's unused bed months ago. He stood, cradling the boy in his arm, smiling in wonder at a face that was no longer wailing, but looking at him in squinting, wriggling curiosity through milky blue eyes. What color would those eyes turn? Hazel or brown? He crossed the distance to Max, dropping to a crouch next to her, his eyes still drinking in the little face. Her eyes fluttered, opened, and he offered the baby to her, watching the fear and panic flit through every muscle in her body, gathering in her eyes.

She gingerly took the boy and Alec could tell that, like him, Max was terrified of dropping the small bundle, of breaking the baby.

They weren't made for this. They weren't cut out for this.

But here they were.

"What are we gonna call him?" Alec asked gently. It only seemed right that Max be the one to name him.

It had no special meaning. It wasn't inspired by something she was looking at or by some knowledge of the baby's personality. In all honesty, it was the first name that moved through her mind. And it was so blessedly normal and human, Max knew it was perfect.

"Jaime." She replied softly, her eyes caressing his tiny body.

Maybe there was no hidden meaning behind it. Maybe most people wouldn't count it as profound or beautiful. But it was to them. Beautiful, profound, and so many other things… because this was their son.

* * *

End Chapter Eight

* * *


	9. Chapter 9: Last Ditch

A/N: Next time… before emailing me and threatening me with bodily harm… just look at my profile page… I do update info on there. :P

* * *

Castaway 

Chapter 9: Last Ditch

* * *

They weren't hazel, not exactly. Not like his father's, anyway. And they weren't brown like hers, not really. Max knew, because she spent so much time looking into them. Max remembered how Alec had grinned in delight as those light blue eyes had deepened into a beautiful conglomeration of deep, deep brown, flecked with gold. Not Alec's eyes. Not Max's eyes. A combination of the two. 

She smiled reassuringly into those curious light-dark eyes. Jaime looked again at his father in open mouthed wonder as Alec's voice lost a little of its tight control.

"We don't have a choice, Max."

Her hand ghosted through Jaime's wispy brown hair. Her voice was every bit as steady as her hand. "You're right. We don't have a choice." She continued before her self-assured mate could lean back in victory. "There's no choice because it's the stupidest thing you've ever suggested and there's no way in hell I'll ever consider it, much less let you go through with it. _You're not going_."

Alec paused, and then countered with the best argument he had. "What kind of life is this for a child, Max?"

She wanted to explode. It always came back to that, didn't it? He needed a new selling point, because that pitch was getting old.

What kind of life was this? No hospitals. No fast food. No friends… Max wanted to shout at him, yes, she was well aware that, in a lot of ways, their situation _sucked_.

But then again… maybe there's not any hospitals here, but there's no Ames White either. Maybe their kid would live without the benefit of electricity and plumbing and fast food, but so did millions of other kids and _they_ weren't defective in any way.

_Defective._

And maybe Jaime'd never have friends, but no one would ever tell him he was _defective_. No one would ever spit on him or call him an animal or try to make him less than what he was.

Perfect.

Max smiled again into those wide-eyes. And she knew exactly what kind of life this was for her son; _safe_.

And then she remembered what she and Alec were arguing about in the first place and some of the anger came back. But as much as she wanted to yell at Alec, she was holding Jaime, and Jaime was rapidly losing the ability to keep his eyes open. And while Jaime frequently proved the myth of 'babies don't sleep' completely wrong, Max could never bring herself to disturb him when his lids started drooping. So she'd have to save the yelling for later.

Max looked down at her son. She looked back up at Alec, shrugging nonchalantly (and gently). "I'm sensing he doesn't have an opinion."

"Well, sure, _now_." Alec rolled his eyes. "But what about when he's older? What about when he's a teenager? An adult? What about when we eventually die, Max, what about then?" Max's arms tightened around Jaime, as if her grip could stop all those terrible eventualities from ever coming to pass. "He'll be alone, Max. We have to figure out a way to get off this damn island."

He took her silence as a form of unhappy agreement and pushed his argument home. "I've got to take the boat out and see if there's any other chains around us."

It wasn't the first time they'd had this argument. Jaime was a week old now. Which meant that this argument had lasted for 6 days and 14 hours (give or take a few hours).

Max looked past Alec. She looked at the ocean stretching out for miles. Sometimes when Max looked at the sea, she saw a buffer, a wall that kept the outside world from intruding on her happiness, on her son's safety. Now, all she could see was choppy waves lapping hungrily at the shore. Greedy fingers, waiting to take her mate from her. Her memory helpfully supplied the terror of being hunched in a rocking boat as the wind howled. And then, as an added bonus, creatively supplied a picture of Alec's lifeless body floating amidst wreckage.

She rocked Jaime, rocked the image away. His lids were shutting now, slowly. Darting back open, to look at his father as Alec moved away. Falling again, heavily, sleepily. Max's eyes fell shut too, but her face was tight, noticeably lacking the peace her son found so quickly.

* * *

Terse whispers pulled Jaime from sleep. He was no longer in his mother's arms, but on top of a warm fur pelt, thin material, his father's shirt, tucked under his arms. His eyesight was less blurry then it'd been on the day of his birth, but still not fully developed. It usually took strong patterns or his mother's face to enrapture him. Bright colors had the ability to fascinate him too. Jaime's eyes fixated on the vibrant orange of the ceiling tarp, oblivious to the argument in the other room. 

"Safe? It's not _safe_ here, Max. Every day we're here is just another day we're damn lucky a hurricane hasn't hit us. Another day that some fucking jungle cat isn't hungry enough to try it's luck."

"You think out there is safe?" She protested, arm flailing wide to indicate where 'out there' was. "With White and the war and… and I hate to say it, but Ordinaries? This is the safest place for our family, Alec."

Alec's disgruntled groan broke Jaime's concentration and he realized he was hungry. The whimper was quickly replaced by a wail. Then warm hands were lifting him, supporting him.

"Can you not watch while I do this?" His mother's voice reverberated in her chest, rumbled through his cheek.

"Embarrassed?" His father's strong presence, leaning in the door frame.

"Ass." Max muttered, hefting Jaime more surely across her front.

"Fine." Alec pushed away from the doorway. "We can finish this... _conversation..._ in the morning."

His mother's voice sounded more like it had in the womb when it was filtered through her chest. It was comforting, soothing, and Jaime was lulled back to sleep by his mother's gently spoken words.

"He even looks at that boat, I'll find a way to hack it to pieces. Yes, I will. Won't I, Jaime? That'll show big, tough Alec who's in charge. Yes it will, won't it? And then I'll kick his ass. 'Cuz no one messes with mommy, do they, Jaime?" She crooned until Jaime's open mouthed snores deepened and he could be put back to bed.

And then, when both her husband and her child were in bed, she went out to the beach and stared hatefully at the boat.

The wonders of parenthood had brought even more panic and fear than the pregnancy had. Fears like, oh my god, we know nothing about babies except they don't sleep, make messes, and support of the head seems crucially important. So far the head support and the messes were a go, but the alertness was a big n-o. Jaime slept… a lot. He was the anti-shark, if you will.

Alec's panic extended past how much Jaime slept and extended into where Jaime slept… or more accurately, where he was going to sleep for the rest of his life. Alec had a big problem with the idea that Jaime would never know anyone besides his parents. Never have friends. Never know the love of another human being. Never be near an all important hospital. And that fear had propelled him to suggest that he take the boat out a few miles, see if anything didn't pop up on the horizon. What was so wrong with that?

First of all, Max scowled to herself, a sudden storm and he could be pushed so far from the island, he'd never make it back. Max trusted in transgenic abilities, but she didn't count star navigation on her list of acquired skills and she certainly wasn't adding it to his. Not to mention the fact that a storm could sink the boat. Traversing the ocean on a very slim chance they might get out of here was nowhere near as important to her as keeping Alec alive.

Call her crazy, but she actually kinda liked the guy.

Even if he did suck at creeping up on her.

"Staring angrily at a boat isn't going to make my arguments any less reasonable."

She kicked a bit of sand at him. "Shut up," She scowled. "The answer is still no."

His hand ghosted across her shoulder. "Who said I was asking?" He teased. His face went serious when she whirled on him. "Just kidding?" He added hopefully, hoping to forestall the angry tirade that was surely building. No such luck.

"I can't believe you'd be stupid enough to even consider it. And by yourself, no less!" She was pacing now, creating funnels in the moon drenched sand. "It's dangerous! What if you capsize? What if there's a storm? What if-"

He reached out and stopped her gently mid-pace, turning her to face him.

"That's a lot of what if's, Max." He countered. "Well, I've got some what-if's too. What if, just beyond the horizon, there's another island? One that holds life of the bipedal, frontal lobe, English-speaking variety? What if our chance of rescue is just beyond sight? We owe it to ourselves to at least check."

"Why now?" She demanded, her eyes searching his. "We've been here all this time. Why do you want to do it _now_?"

"I thought about it before… but I couldn't risk-" He glanced away, knowing the admission would cost him points in this argument. "If something had happened… I couldn't bear the thought that I was leaving you all alone… forever."

"Oh, I get it." She exploded, "So if you die out there, NOW it'll be okay, because I have Jaime to keep me company."

"C'mon, Max…" His voice was tired, but he'd get no sympathy from her.

"Don't 'c'mon' me. Your argument stinks and if your idea isn't the stupidest thing I've ever heard, then it's by far the the most reckless. Now more than ever, it's a bad idea, because you have a son, Alec. You can't just… just _risk_ yourself like that."

He sighed, the long suffering sigh of defeat. But his sigh told her all she needed to know. No, he didn't think she was being unreasonable. In fact, he knew how dangerous this little stunt of his could turn out to be. But if it saved them from a life of monkey, mango, and solitude, he'd risk it. The thrill of victory turned to ash in Max's mouth.

What victory could come from a lose-lose situation? The real question, though, was which would she rather risk losing; her chance of rescue or her mate? She knew as well as he how the ocean distorted the perception of distance. She knew, like him, that just below the grey haze of the curved horizon, another island could be waiting. But to her, the chance would never be worth the risk. She'd lost too many brothers and sisters. No way in hell she was gonna lose a husband.

"You know I'll always come back to you." His voice was soft in the darkness.

She shot a quicksilver smile at the horizon as he moved away. It was more of a pained grimace than anything else. He'd certainly proved that adage time and time again. In Seattle, he'd kept coming back even after telling him to get lost had become habitual. In that split second, she knew she'd let him go. Not only because his wariness told her he wouldn't be taking unnecessary risks... Also because come hell and high water, she trusted him to return to her.

That didn't mean she'd let him run off without any ground rules, though.

"Daytime, only." Her soft voice made him pause in the doorway. "No rowing unless you have to. Use the rest of the gas. Once all the gas is gone, we give up and make the best of it." She turned to look at him. "Deal?"

His smile was slight but warm. His eyes, warm as well, but with a hint a strain and a grain of fear. This wasn't something that Alec wanted to do. It was something he had to do.

Max prayed that the morning would bring rain and he would never leave.

The morning donned bright and beautiful and warm and didn't that just frickin' figure. Only a handful of clouds dotted the sapphire sky, but they were high and wispy and experience had taught Max that even if they were pushed to the island, they would bring no rain and only a slight breeze

Max refused to say goodbye to him. She stared sulkily past him as he kissed Jaime on the forehead. Her moved to her, rubbed her suddenly cold arms with large, warm hands. She looked into his eyes and then looked past him.

She wouldn't say it. He couldn't make her say it.

"C'mon Max-"

"You tell me to kiss you goodbye, and the whole deal's off."

His mouth twisted in sour amusement and his hands dropped away. "Fine. I'll see you in a few hours."

He was almost out the door, and Max felt a gnawing sense of loss, a quick flash of fear and the emotions had her speaking before she was entirely sure what she wanted to say.

"Wait!" _Don't leave us._

He paused at the threshold, the muscles tensing under his skin, and Max was once again struck with the knowledge. This wasn't something he wanted to do. This was something he had to do. For her. For Jaime. For him. For peace of mind.

"What about your shirt?" She finished, slightly lamely.

He looked down at the bronzed skin of his chest, looked back at the soft white of Jaime's skin, still new to this world, tucked under the light grey fabric. He couldn't bring himself to go pick it up, to rouse the boy from slumber, to take away his warmth, his protection. And if Alec was to never return, the only link he'd ever have of his father.

Alec snorted. Jeez. When'd he get all nancy-pants, sissified, girl-fantastic? Never to return? And he'd thought Max was being melodramatic. Still he cast a quick glance back at Max, at Jaime, right before he winked at her and made himself walk out the door.

Neither Max or Alec needed to have worried. The day stayed bright and clear and Alec had no problem navigating the small skiff out to sea. If Max had taken Jaime to a high outcropping, and had taken the time to look, she'd have been able to find the boat bobbing in the waters to the south. But she had more important things to do, like take care of Jaime and spend the day telling herself nothing was going to happen.

He went out, and then a little further, and then a little further. Well aware that Max would not be watching, he used the oars more often than not, awkward though it may be, to conserve gas. After all, he still had north and west to scout out. He was relatively sure there were no islands past the small islets to the east, that having been the direction they'd come from when they'd first landed on the island.

No islands appeared in the southern waters.

Fair enough. There were other places to look.

Part of Alec still believed they were somewhere near the Equator, possibly even in the Polynesians, based upon the warmth, the length of day, the warmer winter days, the dry summer months… Still, while the islands at the center of the Polynesians were clustered together, those at the edges were widespread, sprawling. If they were on the outskirts of the large sea area… With only the strength of his back to propel him through the water, it might take days in any one direction to find another landmass. And even then it'd be like hoping to hit a straw with a dart aimed miles away, where the slightest shift in angle could make you go wide of the mark entirely.

Crappiest game ever.

He came back tired, but not exactly without hope. And he came back surprised as well, because there was the beginning of a good sized fire pit on the beach.

"There's another one at the top of the waterfall." Max grunted, shoveling more sand. She paused to wipe hair from her eyes. "And I started a log pile."

"Ahh, arts and crafts, X-series style." Alec nodded sagely. "I like it."

"It's a signal fire, you moron." Max rolled her eyes at his idiocy. "Just in case…"

Alec wanted patiently for her to finish the sentence. And then helpfully supplied her with one with she wasn't quick enough. "Just in case that tropical cruise liner we never see happens to steam past here?" He questioned, his voice too chipper to be anything but biting. "Ooh, I know. Next time Santa Claus does a low fly-by, we can crank it up and then you, me, Jaime, Donner and Blitzen, we can all sit around the campfire, roast marshmallows and sing kumbaya."

"Alec."

"Yeah?"

"Shut up." She growled. "I'm not building it on the chance of rescue. I'm building it so you can find you're way back to me."

Alec shut up. More like he couldn't form the words with his jaw hanging openly like that. He finally found a word, but it wasn't particularly eloquent or dignified. Or even a word.

"Erm…"

"Shut up." She reiterated, digging angrily into the soft sand. Displays of affection weren't her thing. Forced displays of affection even less so.

Alec said the smartest thing he'd said all day. "Shutting up now."

* * *

Day two of the great water expedition. Day nine in the life of Jaime. Day one in the bottom half of Max's shirt being ripped up and creatively tied around Jaime's lower half for a quick fix sumo-style nappy. Yeah, so she'd have to clean it every time Jaime wet, or otherwise, himself, but it was better than the alternative. Nothing at all. 

Alec came home from the northern sea slightly more depressed. Still no luck. The sight of Max in half her shirt was slightly refreshing, though.

"You've seen me naked, stupid. What about _this_ is so fascinating?" She finally huffed, crossing her arms under her breasts, above her bared midriff. Didn't help the situation, in Alec's mind.

"Something different," He shrugged, brushing a kiss across her neck. Max was tempted to get mad at him (what, she was _old_ and unexciting now and it took a wardrobe change to get him interested?) but his lips against her skin was… well…

They both stiffened, broke apart from each other, and moved off in separate directions, Alec to check on Jaime, Max to get back to work on her latest project.

* * *

Day three and Alec wasn't pulling anything over on her. 

"What do you mean there's some gas left?"

"Just a bit. Enough to cross the lagoon and check the waters a little bit farther to the west."

"You've been gone hours at a time. How could there _possibly_ be any gas left?"

"Most fuel-efficient boat _ever_." Alec said blandly.

Max smirked at him, and sauntered slowly over to him. Alec suddenly felt very… well… Men do not feel trapped nor in any way prey-like. Especially not when they're Alec. Not even when Max is smiling in that particularly evil way. Alec's left foot twitched in an attempt to flee, but luckily his knee was manly enough to keep it in place.

"You're not lying to me, are you Alec?" Max smiled up at him, leaning in. Alec blinked dumbly as fear was replaced by intoxication.

"Course not," He smiled into her eyes, the hairs on the back of his neck bristling (in fear or arousal, who knows?) as her hands trailed up his forearms, past his elbows, to his biceps-

Oh shit.

"What the hell, Alec." Her grip tightened on his biceps. His recently heavily used, and now stiff, biceps.

"What?" He asked innocently.

"Don't what me!" She stepped away from him and he was disappointed to realize her coquette act had been indeed to lure him in to produce the evidence she needed. "You've been doing more rowing than anything else!"

"Maybe." He hedged.

Her eyes narrowed in frustration. So did his.

"Come on, Max. I'm really trying here."

"Trying to what? Exhaust yourself and get yourself killed?!" She exploded.

"Trying to get us off this damn island!" He roared back. "You think a single can of gas would have cut it? I'm doing this for us, damnit!"

A wail from the other room made Max's face stiffen. "Oh, great. Wake my son, why don't you?"

"Me?" He asked incredulously, following her into Jaime's room. "You're the one with the shrill, piercing voice. And what's this 'my' son crap?"

She beat Alec to Jaime's bed by a moment, lifting her son before her mate could. "My voice is not piercing."

He shrugged, his weight shifting into his heels. "Yeah, sure, whatever you say… … …" He coughed into his hand. "Banshee."

Max growled in frustration. And then realized why Jaime was crying. It wasn't their shouting. She handed Jaime to a nonplussed Alec.

"Change your son."

"Oh sure." Alec rolled his eyes, "Jaime has a wet diaper and all of the sudden he's _my_ kid again."

Her arms crossed, her eyebrow lifted in sadistic pleasure. "Oh, it's not just wet."

"…I hate you."

"Yeah, well, welcome to parenthood."

Once the sordid business of diaper changing was behind him, the young man went west.

And didn't return east until almost night fall, tired, aching, and drenched. Max had tried to light the fire for him… one problem. Heavy rain, fire, and wet logs don't equal combustion. More of a unhappy smoldering than anything else. She knew the trail of smoke wouldn't be enough for Alec to make it home if night set in. So she paced the length of their home, out of her mind with worry. It was the perfect end to the perfect fucking day.

He walked in the door and ducked just in time to avoid the arc of her fist.

"Where have you been?" She demanded, moving again to cuff the back of his head. His solid wrist blocked her blow and he pulled her in close, lifted her against him. It was a kiss, but it was devouring and empty and pained. He shoved her against the wall, and the bamboo's creak of protest was enough to pull her back to her senses and away from his mouth.

"Oh, Alec," She whispered, pained, her hands coming up to cup his face in a rare gesture of tenderness.

"Fucking current caught the boat and pulled me farther than I expected." He broke away from her angrily, pulling his sodden shirt from his cold, wet body. "And then the sudden rain and the west fucking wind didn't help things."

She knew he wasn't only angry about how long it took him to get back... "There wasn't… anything?"

"If there was I would have fucking seen it." He stalked into the bedroom. She heard the wet slap of his shirt hitting the wall forcefully.

She stood in the doorway as he sat on the pallet and worked to remove his sodden jeans. "There's still northwest, and southeast, and-"

"Just forget it, Max. You're right. We're never getting off this damn island." The jeans hit the ground with a sickly plop.

"But-"

"But nothing." He looked up at her, the pain of defeat making his eyes burn bright. "If there is any islands near us, they're likely days away and-" His voice failed and Max saw the glimmer of fear hidden behind the anger.

He looked up at her and saw the recognition in her eyes. "I thought I wouldn't make it back." He admitted, his throat clenching. "The waves kept pushing me west and all I could think about was you and Jaime. I used the rest of the gas and every ounce of will I've got to…" His voice died in his throat.

"To come home?" She supplied, gently.

His head fell into his hands.

"Alec, you didn't fail." She sat next to him. "We said you'd look. You looked. You didn't see anything. Maybe there's an island a few days away. We don't have the means to find some... some hypothetical island..." She leaned in to him, to drive the point home. "You're not a failure."

"Then why do I feel like one?" He asked. "We're X-5's. We're supposed to rescue ourselves."

She didn't have an answer for him. So she changed the subject, soft of. "So, there's no more gas?"

His eyes found hers. Even if she already knew it, the storm had shaken him more than he'd ever admit aloud. The possibility of being separated from his family had come closer to a terrifying reality then he'd ever want to live through again. "No more gas. No more looking for other islands. Just you, me, and the squirt, now."

And then they held each other because even though the hope of rescue had been a long shot, even improbable dreams die painful deaths.

* * *

"Happy one month to yoooooooou. Happy one month to yooooouuu-" 

"Ummm…"

"Happy one month, little Jaime…"

"Seriously."

"Happy one month to you."

"Wow, and I thought I'd be the one getting all mushy and weird." Alec smirked at her from the door way.

"Shut up and kiss your son on his one month anniversary." She proferred the baby as if he was an offering to the lips of Alec.

"His one month anniversary? Please tell me you're joking." He stepped forward and brushed a kiss across Jaime's forehead anyway. And then gave one to Max to, because motherhood brought out ridiculously fabulous sides of her that he never knew existed. Like niceness and public (well, in front of Alec anyway) singing and lots of smiling. Go figure.

"Hey, I forgot to show you, look at this." Max turned to Jaime and scrunched up her face. Alec laughed as Jaime scrunched up his face in mimicry. And then Max and Alec both stopped as Jaime's face split into a wide, happy smile.

"Woah, he's never done that before." Alec said in amazement.

The young parents looked at their child in amazement. Then shared a glance.

"God, can you imagine what we'll do when he says his first word?" Alec chuckled.

"Break out the coconuts and party likes it's 1999… b.c.?" Max joked wryly.

Alec smirked. Then outright grinned when Jaime tried to mimic his father's smirk. He failed of course, and just ended up smiling some more, but his son's effort more than made up for Max coming after Alec for "subverting" their child.

* * *

Every day was the same and yet vastly different. Guess those old public service announcements were right. Having a kid really did change everything. Alec smiled, watching Max hold Jaime gently upright in the shallows of the waterfall. Who'da thought; to be this young and settled down already… 

And then with a start he realized he wasn't that young anymore. He was 21 when he'd met Max- Holy crap, he was probably 24. And if he wasn't 24, he was probably close to it. Downside of not knowing your real birthday is not knowing for sure what age to bemoan. He decided to stick with his made up birthday. Which meant he was 23 for another month and a half. Sweet.

Okay, so maybe most people wouldn't count 24 as old. But given the fact that he never thought he'd make it past 30… hey, he was doin' pretty damn good.

Jaime's hands slapping happily in the water brought Alec crashing back to reality. And rather then spend time thinking about the paths his life _could_ have taken, he happily rejoined the one it did.

* * *

End Chapter 9…

* * *


	10. Chapter 10: Growth, Regression, and

A/N: Quite a few of you are very dedicated reviewers, and I just wanted you to know that even when I don't reply to your review, your support means a lot to me. There aren't enough happy dances in the world for me to show my appreciation.

* * *

Castaway

Chapter 10: Growth, Regression, and Foreshadowing

* * *

Like Eve, and Case before her, no barcode appeared at the nape of Jaime's neck in the months following his birth. 

He was free.

Well, he was beyond free, 'cuz look at where he lived. But still, it was the principle of the thing. Her child wasn't stamped like a piece of property. When Gem had looked in wonder at the back of Eve's neck, a very small part of Max had agreed with Mole's bitter assessment; the child wasn't free, because they'd still have to fight long and hard to be accepted by society. Only now, having her own child, did Max fully understand the relief that must have coursed through Gem's mind… Max smiled.

Alec, coming across the beach towards them, paused, letting his eyes take in the sight of his mate and his son.

Her hand brushed up and down his small body. He lay on her bare stomach, sleeping peacefully, a hand fisted near his face. Alec didn't know that such a sweetly agonizing feeling even existed until he caught sight of Max and Jaime, his heart melting in ways it never had before.

Max felt the intensity of his stare and her head turned lazily to catch his gaze. If Alec had still been walking, he probably would've been forced to stop by the sudden breathlessness that threatened to overcome him.

Max looked… content.

Peaceful, even.

It wouldn't be a leap for him to say that he'd never seen her like that before. And though he knew the cause of this newfound calmness within her, he still couldn't quite believe it... Her contentment was almost enough to make up for the fact that his recklessness could have killed her. Almost.

His fist tightened, but he shook it away as he crossed the remaining distance.

* * *

"Hey," He smiled at her as she came in to the bedroom. 

"Hey yourself." She smiled back.

"Sport sleepin'?"

"Finally," She rolled her eyes, her hand glancing across her pocket before she pushed her jeans to the floor and crawled into bed with him. "Remember the good ole days when he always slept?"

"Whatever happened to those days?" He smiled, pulling her tight against his body.

"I think they were last week," Max rubbed tired eyes and let her head pillow on Alec's outstretched arm.

"Oh yeah, forgot about that." He smiled into her hair, his hand sliding down her arm. She sighed, her body relaxing against him. Sharks may not need a lot of sleep but they do need _some_ sleep and dang it if Jaime didn't always know when she was about to drop off.

He pulled the hair from her neck, pressing a kiss just behind her ear.

And Max was amazed to find that she wasn't that tired anymore.

"Alec?" She breathed.

He froze, just for a moment, his blood heating faster than his brain's arguments. He shifted behind her, pressing close, his breath fanning across her neck. Her own breath came quicker as his hand ran down her side and then moved back up, under the remaining half of her shirt. She arched back into him, arched into his hand…

Just as Jaime started crying again.

Alec groaned and Max sighed. She started to pull away from him, but he pressed her back down and stood up himself.

"I got it this time," He said, and she smiled at him in surprised relief. He was almost out the door when he glanced back and let his eyes skim over her pink cheeks, "Is it too much to ask that you'll still be awake when I get back?"

She shrugged, suppressing a smile. "Probably,"

"Figures," He muttered, and left the room. She heard him pull Jamie from his bed, and talk soothingly to the squalling child.

"You're lucky that you're my favorite or you and I'd be having a man to man talk." Max rolled her eyes at the muffled words. The floor creaked as Alec began pacing, Jamie in his arms. Max relaxed into the furs, listening to the soft sound of Alec humming something that sounded suspiciously like classical music.

When she woke up a few hours later, Alec was still not in bed. She winced sympathetically, hoping he wasn't too badly off. She moved quietly to Jaime's room and then stopped in the threshold, her heart climbing into her throat to sneak a peek before sighing dramatically and sliding back down, a warm, useless, gooey remainder of what it'd previously been. She leaned against the doorframe, her head tilting as she smiled softly.

Alec was sitting with his back against the wall, Jaime still in his arms. Both of her men were fast asleep, mouths slightly open.

Max sent silent thanks to Manticore for one of the very few things that they got right. Who needs a camera when you've got a photographic memory? Max tucked the scene into the gooey remnants of her heart, knowing full well that she could live to be one hundred and five and never see anything quite as great.

She pushed herself from the doorway and crossed the room, leaning down to pull Jaime from Alec's tight grasp. He woke immediately, looking up at her in surprise before offering her a sheepish grin. She rolled her eyes, putting Jaime quietly back into his bed. She tucked a light pelt around his legs, smiling slightly at the sleeping infant. She turned and caught Alec watching her with an unreadable expression on his face. He started as she caught him staring and then smirked, holding out a hand. She rolled her eyes but moved back to him anyway and helped him silently to his feet. Back in their room, he fell into bed and it was all she could do to stop herself from laughing at him as she joined him.

Then the memory of his hand on her breast warmed her cheeks and laughter became an impossibility.

"Alec?" She asked softly, leaning over him.

He snored softly in response.

She sighed in disappointment and lay back down, her cheek resting against her folded arm. Knowing full well that remaining awake with the memory of what had almost happened wouldn't be easy, she let her eyes close and began breathing rhythmically, using the trick she'd perfected over the last year to drop off into an unnecessary, dream-filled sleep. As her body relaxed, Alec's eyes opened, clear and sharp, and moved across her still face for a few moments. He frowned, rolling to his back, and stared hard at the poles overhead. It'd take him an hour to fall asleep.

* * *

Jamie was a little over two months old. The whites of Max's eyes were once again clear, the last of the blood vessels that had burst during Jaime's delivery disappearing. Like the redness in her eyes, the trauma of labor was rapidly becoming a sort of vague memory. At least in Max's mind. She remembered that it'd hurt and it'd been unpleasant and she remembered thinking a number of unsavory things about Alec, but it didn't bother her much beyond that. 

Alec remembered her ashen face and her sweaty forehead and her pained cries and his overwhelming fear. Just thinking about it made his palms sweat. Which was probably one of the reasons he kept avoiding the issue of sex. Actually it was one of two reasons. The other reason being he was scared of reliving that situation. Scared of putting her in that much danger again.

Max wasn't stupid. True, she hadn't noticed his avoidance in the first few weeks of Jaime's life because she'd been too busy avoiding _him_; she'd been tired and her body had been adjusting to _not_ being pregnant and frankly she hadn't been even remotely interested… but now… When he once again found a reason to not make with the gettin' busy (or even partake in a clandestine make out session), it was fairly obvious that something was up.

"Whaddya mean we don't have any mangoes? It's the middle of the night, you can't go get mangoes."

"I was just saying, that maybe tomorrow-"

"I was kissing your neck and you were thinking about mangoes?!"

He shrugged. "I'm a multi-tasker." Then he yawned dramatically, his arms stretching overhead. "Man, I'm beat!" He turned and walked into their bedroom. She didn't follow him because it'd be too easy to yell at him right now.

Alec pulled the shirt from his body, and frowned thoughtfully at the garment in his hands. Max had been increasingly responsive since they'd almost made love the previous week. Since they'd almost made a big frickin' mistake. He sighed, his shirt dropping to his side as he rubbed his face with one hand.

Did he want Max?

Desperately.

But he wasn't an animal, he could live without sex. And he'd made a vow to himself, back when she'd been pregnant.

_Never again. Never again putting her in that much danger. _

Course, back then, he couldn't wait for the pregnancy to be over and for their sex lives to get back on a roll, though with some concessions to safety… but that'd been before he'd been witness to the whole messy experience...

After a few minutes Max's blood cooled slightly below boiling and she was able to walk into their bedroom without taking a coconut to lob at his head.

"How long are you going to avoid me?" She asked his shirtless back.

He glanced at her over his shoulder before looking again at the shirt at his side, pulling it back over his head

Max snorted. "Oh, what, now you're gonna sleep in your clothes?" She glared at him. "Scared I'm going to ravish you, fair maiden?"

He glanced again at her, his mouth quirking. "Man, Max, sometimes…"

"Sometimes what?"

He chuckled. "Sometimes you sound so much like me, it scares me a bit."

Max started. She did exchange her normal 'shut up' for Alec-ish smart ass quips far more often than she'd used too… But that's not the point, the point is-

"You don't want to sleep with me." She accused.

He turned to face her, smiling slightly. "No, Max. I'd love to sleep with you. I'm actually kinda tired. So let's get with that sleepin'."

It was getting harder to control her anger. She glared at him. "You know what I mean, smart ass. You practically run away anytime anything remotely sexual starts to happen."

He fixed her with a blank stare. "Don't know what you're talkin' about."

"Oh please," Her mouth curled in disdain. "I saw through that bullshit line even when I didn't know you. The difference being then I'd have let it go. You're not getting away with anything, so start talking."

He dropped into bed, a small smile tugging at his lips. "Still don't know what you're talking about." His arms folded behind his head, his legs crossed at the ankles, and he practically exuded an air of unconcerned innocence.

She stared incredulously at him. Did he really think she was that dense? Or did he think she'd just get exasperated and give up? (That's exactly what he thought) Unfortunately for him, Max had another way of proving her point.

She pulled her shirt from her body in a single fluid motion. His smiled slightly before letting his face fall back into neutrality as she popped the snap of her jeans, shoving them down her legs, stepping from them daintily.

Hah! Was that the best she'd got? He knew how she was (see earlier: Mrs. Anti-sexuality-unless-she-wants-something). Take more than that to get him to admit to anything.

He smirked devilishly at her as she walked slowly towards him, her hips swinging. When she was about a foot away, he unfolded his arms from behind his head and pushed himself up on his elbows, his eyes widening. "Max, is that a stretch mark?"

Her eyes widened in a show of panic. "What?! Where?" She looked down at her stomach, running her hands across the expanse of flesh.

"Coulda sworn I saw-" He trailed off, squinting at her stomach.

And was shoved back down as she straddled him. She smirked down at him, one hand slipping under his shirt. "Did you really think that would work?" She leaned into him, breathing in the scent of his skin before nipping slightly at the tender flesh of his ear. Alec tried really hard to stop his eyes from rolling back into his head, and even though he failed at least he didn't let the shudder escape.

As Max sat up, he told himself he wasn't going to lose the argument. Jaime would wake up any minute now and he wouldn't have to admit he was scared of anything…

Then one finger slipped under his waistband and swept across his front and he began to doubt his ability to stay detached from the situation. _Just hold out,_ he told himself. Any minute Jaime would come to the rescue.

She leaned down again to press a kiss against his neck, her tongue darting into the hollow of his throat as she pulled the button on his jeans free.

Yup… any second… C'mon, Jaime, pal. Don't make your old man look like a chump.

As Max's small hand slipped into his pants, Alec couldn't help but think that his son was a dang traitor. Of all the nights for him to be sleeping peacefully-

"Okay, okay, you win." He disengaged from her carefully. Max became all business in a matter of moments, lifting herself off of him and crossing the room to lean against the opposite wall, her arms folded. Alec stifled the small irrational part of his brain that threw out a bit of disappointment at how easily she detached herself from the situation. Then realized that probably wasn't his brain talking and got over it because the brain in his skull had better arguments on why nothing should happen between them.

"I can't lose you." He admitted, well aware of the kind of shit storm a statement like that could start.

Max rolled her eyes, "Come off it, Alec, nothing's going to happen to me."

"Would you let go of your God complex for two seconds?" Alec sighed, sitting up even though he felt suddenly weary.

Her arms dropped to her sides and she pushed herself from the wall. "_Excuse_ you-"

"Women die in childbirth everyday. What makes you so goddamn special?" His voice became more biting with each word.

"First of all," Max raged back, "That's providing I even get pregnant again. And believe me, after that God comment it'll be a miracle if I even let you sleep in the same room with me. Secondly-"

"Secondly, nothing." He rose with his anger, advancing on her. "You've always thrown yourself around like you're some kind of immortal. Even in Seattle you put yourself in situations without even a little bit of risk analysis. _Ooo, I don't do guns_." Alec mimicked bitingly. "_Eyes Only needs me, who cares if I get shot up_."

"When did this turn into an argument about Seattle?" Max replied scathingly, not backing down for even a moment. "We're talking about your inability to admit you're scared of having sex."

"You never examine the risks, Max!" His voice was thick with frustration.

So was hers. "Oh, and you do so much better, Mr. Target-for-a-shoulder?"

His face descended into iciness. "And isn't it funny how I always got shot when I was with you."

"Hey, that time at Jam Pony, I wasn't even there."

Neither of them really knew what they were arguing about anymore, but the frustration was helped along nicely by memories of Seattle.

"All sewers lead straight back to T.C., genius. But instead, you sent them through the city, in broad daylight, to a place of business."

"They were surrounded by Ordinaries and you were the closest friendly nearby!" She argued. He rolled his eyes, because she didn't refute that she'd sent them through in daylight. "Besides, Josh was freaking out and talking about babies popping out. I wasn't gonna make them crawl around in the sewers with a pregnant female!"

"Gem's X-5." Alec acted as though he were pointing it out to a dimwit. Max ground her teeth. Alec ignored her. "But, of course, personal crusader Max forgets that everyone she campaigns for is more than capable of defending themselves. So you just let your old buddy Alec deal with it-"

"Joshua was a wreck." She enunciated slowly, mimicking his superior inflection. "And I trusted you to be able to calm him down. Excuse me for having a little bit of faith in you!"

He snorted.

Her ire died and her eyes widened as the ridiculous nature of their argument finally registered. What the hell were they even fighting about? "Oh my god."

"What now?" He asked.

"We're like that old married couple you see on Sundays at the market and wonder why they ever got together."

He blinked in confusion. Then paused thoughtfully. "Yeah, I think I saw them a few times."

"It wasn't a literal analysis, jackass."

He frowned at her. "So much for making peace." He paused slightly, and then as a matter of honor, threw out a "Bitch." for good measure.

She scowled. "Are you _trying_ to start a fight with me?"

"Believe it or not, I don't enjoy your bitchiness." He snarked.

Max saw right through him and his biting recovery. Her eyes widened. "Oh my god, you are."

"Don't be stupid,"

She laughed in stunned disbelief. "You _are_. Alec tactics 101. You're trying to distract me." Her voice became accusing. "Change the subject and get me so angry I really will throw you out and then you won't have to deal with the sex issue for another week."

He froze, his spine stiffening. "I don't know what you're talking about."

Max shook her head, laughing again in disbelief. "You are so predictable."

"This time I'm serious," He frowned. Although that'd partly been why he'd been riling her up, he really did have issues with her blasé attitude when it came to her safety. "Stop treating yourself like you're untouchable."

Her eyes narrowed. "News flash, genius. The only one treating me like that is you." She turned on her heel and stalked out of the room.

Alec sighed, running a hand through his hair. And then paused when Max flounced back into the room and jumped on him, her mouth covering his. His arms came up automatically to support her as he lost himself and all of his arguments.

She broke away after a moment, smirking superiorly at his glassy expression. "You really are a retard." She said affectionately.

He blinked and focused on her. "What the hell was that about?"

"You're arguing 'cuz you're worried about me," She sighed, her smirk failing. "I figure you deserve some credit for that."

He let out a short laugh,. Then grinned. "Actually wouldn't be that bad if you got pregnant again."

She froze, stiffening in his arms.

"I mean, remember how you kept telling me you loooved me and you needed me and-"

"Shut up!" She said unhappily, sliding down his frame, coming back to her feet. "That was the hormones."

"Yeah," he smiled wistifully. "I miss those hormones."

She popped him in the shoulder.

He rubbed his shoulder, the gleam in his eyes ruining the effect of his scowl. "And that's one of the many reasons why I miss them."

She arched one eyebrow at him. "I had the hormones. What was your excuse?"

"Hormonal by association." He said it so confidently she had to laugh.

But if she thought that their argument had cleared the air and reopened the path to a full and satisfying sex life, the coming weeks would prove her very wrong.

* * *

At three months, Jaime's laughter was a common occurrence. Max didn't understand what was so ridiculously fabulous about... well, any of the hundreds of things that Jaime found amusing, but if Jaime liked it, she liked it, too. Alec insisted that Jaime got his easy temperament from him; said he could just imagine Max terrorizing the infant handlers as a baby. Max told him she'd probably learned it from him. 

A few weeks after Jaime's three month mark, in the beginning of May, Alec turned 24. Just like the year before, he didn't mention it to Max. He didn't set much store by it because it was just an arbitrary date he'd picked in lieu of a real birthday. For all he knew, he could be the same age as Max. He doubted it… Even if he hadn't known he was a year older than her, he'd have known based upon how old he sometimes _felt_. Especially on the days that Max got all moody when he refused to do anything more than some heavy petting.

At four months, Alec realized Jaime was paying close attention to the reflections in the water pool. On a clear day, he'd watch the wavering image of that dark haired stranger with the light-dark eyes in rapt fascination. He'd watch in open-mouthed amazement as the stranger kept time with his movements and would turn wide eyes on his parents every few moments. _Are you seeing this?!_ He'd get quite distressed if either Max or Alec would disrupt the image, slapping at the water awkwardly in an attempt to make the stranger reappear, unaware he wasn't helping the situation. Luckily, he was easily distracted and his annoyance never lasted more than a few moments.

Max had no such problems. It was the end of the month, and Max was so sexually frustrated, she wanted to tear her hair out. She hadn't felt this on edge since she'd been in Seattle. Alec must be made out of frickin' stone. In Washington, she'd thought he was incapable of lasting a few days without getting some. She shoulda known he had the discipline of the true blue Manticore few when he actually wanted it. That he was using his training to resist her… it surpassed childish, ridiculous, and maddening within Max's mind and went to straight up evil.

It was a ridiculously sultry June evening. The bright moon was hanging low in the heavens and a soft breeze was working its way across the island.

Long story short; perfect night for getting some.

But when Alec avoided her questing hand, using his own to tease her mercilessly, she'd had about enough.

"If I wanted to feel fingers, I'd have used my own," She growled, but couldn't keep her face from coloring in embarrassment.

He paused, hovering over her, and she could practically hear the wheels turning within his head.

"Don't even go there," She warned him. He shrugged, looking away, but was unable to completely hide the smile and it earned him a disgusted grunt as she pushed him away and got up from their bed, stopping only for a moment to pull on her jeans.

"Where you going?" He asked, his smile back under control. Too bad there was still a hint of amusement in his voice. She huffed in annoyance and walked out of the room. He knew that if he tried he'd be able to hear the soft sound of Jaime's even breath in the next room, evidence that the boy was sleeping soundly. But Max didn't head for Jaime's room, like he thought she would, but left their home entirely. He sighed, letting his head thunk back onto the pallet. While pissing Max off, to this day, remained one of his favorite past times, it'd been easier as of late because she was so damn volatile. And that was putting it mildly. God, she was almost as bad as she'd used to be in Seattle.

He sighed again and rolled out of bed. He glanced into Jaime's room, ensured to himself that the boy was sleeping soundly, before he made himself go after her, even though he knew he could end up sporting bruises for it tomorrow. Or, well, later today because it was already well past midnight.

"I don't even want to look at you," She said as he crested the slope next to the waterfall. He came to stand next to her, helped her peruse their kingdom.

"C'mon, Max, you know I'm a dirty old man. You shouldn't have said it to begin with." He grinned, flashing his teeth at her. She remained immune to his easy brand of charm, staring out over the waterfall, arms folded tightly across her chest.

He rolled his eyes, "Jeez, Max, you're almost as pissy as you were in Seattle." Then something clicked in his mind, and his eyes widened a bit. "Oh my god."

"Don't even think it." She growled. "My anger is in no way correlated to how sexually frustrated I am."

"Really? Then how come you knew what I was thinking?"

"Because I know you,"

"Yeah, or maybe because you were thinking it too."

"That has nothing to do with it!" She exploded.

He fixed her with a level gaze, as if she was proving his point for him. And then he sighed. "Ah, screw it." And pulled her in close, his mouth slanting over hers.

She was almost completely taken in by him, until she felt him reach for the button at her waist. She ripped away from him, her eyes narrowing in cold rage. "I don't want a pity fuck." She hissed and she pushed past him, picking her way down the incline.

She kinda wished O.C. was here to throw something out like, 'just like a man to think he can solve anything with sex,' or to just generally commiserate with. She felt rather than saw Alec coming after her, but she ignored him as best she could. Until she felt the sand hit her back.

"What the-"

She whirled around, just in time to catch another handful of sand in the chest.

"Alec, what the hell are you doing?!"

"You want to act like a child, so I don't see why I can't play like one." He grabbed another fistful.

"Put that down!"

His face lowered, his grin becoming malicious. "Make me." He tossed the grit, but she'd already moved out of the way.

"I know what you're trying to do," She frowned, "and it's not going to work."

"What's that?" He asked innocently, scooping up some of the wet sand beneath the surf. She watched the water run from the gloopy mess in trepidation.

"Don't you dare."

"Who's gonna stop me?" She moved away as he slung it, intent on getting back to the safety of the house, but he'd taken her movement into account and the wet mess hit her squarely on the ass. Her back arched as she twisted at the waist to better stare incredulously at the mark on her pants. Then turned to glare at him.

"Oh, you're gonna get it now, Pretty Boy."

He smirked. "Make my day."

She didn't bother with any theatrics or blurring or anything like that, just straight up charged him, using her brute strength to knock him to the ground, coming to rest on top of him. She sat up, settling back against him as she glared. He winced as the cold water rushed up around his fallen from, fell away, rushed in again.

When she didn't throw any punches, he forget the cold water and looked up at her in confusion. Like, 'what the hell are you waiting for', or something.

"This remind you of anything?" She asked.

He propped himself up on his elbows and glanced appreciatively at her thighs. "The fact that I haven't had sex in a long time?"

She scoffed. "First of all, whose fault is that? Secondly… No. That first night in Seattle. With Logan and the virus. I knocked you down the same way." She arched an eyebrow. "You should have known better by now."

"Sand's loose," He sniffed. "Just caught me off balance, is all."

They sat in silence for a few moments.

"Why-"

"Just tryin' to help you work out some aggression, Max, that's all."

"Guess I have been kinda bitchy lately, huh?" She sighed. She glanced down and swatted him in the shoulder for his 'well, duh' look. "It has nothing to do with the sex, though." She insisted.

"Then what's it all about, Maxie?"

"Lately, I've just been feeling a little…"

"Horny?" Alec supplied helpfully. Earning himself another smack.

"Unwanted," She corrected snidely. "And for the record, my pissiness in Seattle had nothing to do with sexual tension and everything to do with the fact that I was constantly a touch away from killing the guy I was in love with. "

Alec stilled, becoming uncomfortable, as he always did, when Logan was brought up. Even more than usual because, in Alec's mind, 'love' and 'Logan' should never be allowed, implied or otherwise, in the same sentence. Unless, of course, if it was on the very rare possibility that one day she'd say something like 'I'd love to smack Logan upside his bitch head,' or 'Logan would cry like a little baby if he knew how much I love you,' or-

"Alec, you still with me?"

"What?" His gaze refocused on her, "Oh, sorry, please continue." Then he smiled, his expression one more turning faraway. Or, 'Love? Me and Logan? Nah, I never felt that.'

"Just forget it," She hissed, pushing off of him. He sat up slightly, catching her wrist and pulling her back down.

"Okay, okay, I'm listening. You shoulda known you'd lose me by bringing Wonder Legs into it."

Another slight smack, remnants of a long ago habit, for the 'Wonder Legs' comment, and then she was laying on top of him, resting her cheek against his chest. He smiled, let his hand run down her back, pretended he wasn't bothered by the wet sand against his.

"You can't avoid sex forever."

No, but he could try.

In all fairness, he knew he was being a little paranoid. A little overprotective. Knew that sex didn't always equal siblings for Jaime if they played it carefully enough…

But he also he remembered that grey January day and how she'd bit her lip and squeezed his hand. And he'd been unable to feel the pain because he'd been too busy watching the blood well around her teeth. Too busy thinking to himself, '_I did this_.'

* * *

Max had given up trying to pressure him into anything by July. Partly because Alec was as slippery as an eel when it came to getting out of something he didn't want to be part of. And partly because she was just tired. She couldn't take any more rejections. She told herself that on the very, very, very remote chance she ever got pregnant again, she was just gonna take off into the forest and deal with it herself, because she had a feeling a lot of his anxiety was stemming from the birth. Honestly, she hardly ever thought about it anymore. And even when she did think about it, Jaime was more than worth a few vague memories of pain. 

Speaking of the dark-haired love of her live, he was a little over five months old. And he did _not_ like the word no. At all. Tell him no and all cooing and oohing would stop for a few good minutes, whether it was because of anger or unhappiness, there was no telling. Alec would have placed bets that the kid didn't even know what the word meant, but was just reacting to the strong negative emphasis placed upon it. NO, do not pull mommy's hair. NO, daddy does not want fingers up his nose, thank you. NO, absolutely no biting allowed… Not that the word or the negative emphasis upon it ever stopped Jaime from repeating the offense once everything was forgotten, but just the same…

It was the beginning of July and she'd just put Jaime down for his nap. She offered Alec a tight smile as she moved past him, intent upon a much needed shower. Then blinked as she felt him catch her elbow and found herself whirled around as a flower appeared in his other hand. She gaped in surprise as he tucked the flower into the hair above her ear and pressed a kiss to her temple.

"What's that for?" She asked as surprise was replaced with a smile. She touched the large flower tentatively, almost reverently.

He shrugged. "Some days I like you."

Her eyebrows drew together and she fixed him with a thoughtful frown as her hand fell away. "I'd say thanks but I'm not sure how I should take that…"

"Yeah, I'm a real sweetheart, blah, blah, woof, woof." His hands came up and buried themselves in the hair behind her neck. And the he kissed her, long and hard. When he pulled away from her, she stared wide eyed at him.

"Seriously, what's with you?"

"Jeez, Max, I can't kiss my wife?"

She blushed in pleasure… and then glared at him in suspicion.

He laughed. "And you get on my case about not keeping up with the calendar."

"And?"

"It's July 2nd."

"Point beeeing?"

He shot her a look.

Her eyes widened in instant understanding. "Oh my god! Alec, it's out two year anniversary."

The two year anniversary of being shipwrecked and she'd almost completely overlooked it. But Jaime had decided to use his newfound mobility to crawl through the dirt after a particularly hard rain and seemed to think that the resulting bath time was actually a clever pseudonym for laugh uproariously and splash mommy as much as possible time. And then he'd found fascination in the crab that had snapped its claws warningly at him and then Max was forced to make the crab into lunch for snapping its claws at her son and then it was nap time and-

"Can't believe you forgot," Alec smirked.

"I did not forget," She huffed. "It just… slipped my mind."

"Slipped your mind? Isn't that just another way of saying you forgot?" He asked.

"No." She glanced away, almost guiltily. He smirked. And it was his turn to gape in surprise when she turned the tables on him, her vice like grip pulling him back to her when he started to move away. She smiled up at him.

"Hey,"

His eyes softened from surprise to something else. "Hey back."

"I'm taking a shower," She declared.

His face contorted in confusion. "Um… thanks for the info?" Then he paused, and took in the mud smeared across her front. "Jeez, Max,"

"He's _your_ son." She accused before her face fell into an annoyed grimace. "Probably got his mud fascination from you."

"Me? You're the one that looks like you rolled in it with him."

"I got this from carrying him, jerk." She huffed. "And where have you been, anyway?"

He frowned, "It was my night for Jaime duty, oh ye of the sleeping dead. So I slept in a little." They both turned, walking together to the waterfall.

"Sleeping dead? Me? You do realize-"

"Yeah, yeah, shark DNA, I got it." He waved the info away. "Didn't seem very shark like when Jaime wanted his diaper changed at three a.m.. Wouldn't have been so bad, but he decided it was play time after that and refused to go back to sleep."

"It's not my fault he chose to wake up during one of the two hours of sleep I get," She frowned as they moved thru the rock walls to the pool beyond. "Besides, it was your night anyway. Quit complaining."

"I already said it was my night for Jaime duty." He retaliated. "Quit trying to piss me off."

She stopped to glare at him. "You-"

His shirt was in the dirt, and he was already working on his jeans.

"You?" He looked up. "You, what? You wonderful man, you?"

"Something like that," She agreed, watching him push the frayed pants off his waist. He looked up again, caught her staring and she covered with a questioning gaze. "I'm sorry, did I invite you?"

"Sounded like it to me."

"Oh." She said dumbly, before scrunching up her face in mock confusion. "That was pretty nice of me."

"Figured I should take advantage before the pod people return the real Max." He grinned.

She scowled, not at his comment, but at a deeper rooted issue. "Sure you can trust yourself to be naked around me?"

He couldn't help it. Sometimes the smart ass that lived in his mouth started working before his brain did. "Who said I was gonna be naked?" He asked, hooking his thumb in his boxers.

And came up sputtering for air before he even realized she'd pushed him in the water. He smoothed the water from his hair, from his face, and put his annoyance on pause so he could watch appreciatively as she divested herself of clothing. Plus, it was hard to be annoyed when she placed the flower he'd gotten her so gently to the side.

She slipped into the water, ignoring him, taking her shirt with her. She folded the muddy garment against itself, rubbing it vigorously between her palms.

His hands settled against her waist.

"Not now, Alec." She snapped.

He nuzzled at her neck. But instead of arousal, Max felt righteous indignation rise within her. She pulled away from him. "What the hell are you doing?" He reached for her but she batted his hand away.

"I'm not doing anything."

"Oh, I don't think so." Her laugh was clipped. "Maybe I haven't seen that look in a long time, but I still know what it means."

"And… you're mad about it?" He stopped, at a loss.

"What gives you the right to dictate our sex life?" She hissed. "You've rebuffed me for months, but all of a sudden you want some and I'm supposed to just hop on board? I don't think so, pal."

He blinked. "Did you seriously just say hop-"

"Shut up! Why today?" She asked, shoving him away, giving herself some breathing room. "What's so special about _today_ that all of a sudden you're gonna stop acting like I have venereal disease." She fixed him with a glare. "And _don't_ say our anniversary 'cuz that's so fucking ridiculous, it's not even funny."

He stared at her for a long moment, before shoving a hand roughly through his hair. "Just forget it."

Her wet, muddy shirt hit him full on in the face.

Far from the anger he was expecting, her voice was tired. "How are we supposed to be together if you never let me inside that thick head of yours?"

He splashed some of the grime away and considered just forgetting about this whole messy incident. But truth be told, he was tired of avoiding her. Tired of holding on to his fear when he'd rather be holding on to her. Plus, he would have been better able to handle her anger; he wasn't sure he knew how to react to the bitter defeat in her voice. "Eidetic memory." He finally said.

She rolled her eyes in instant understanding. "That again? I'm telling you, it wasn't that bad."

"Okay, yeah, so maybe the pain you were in makes _your_ memory fuzzy, but I remember _everything_. The crying and the bleeding and… God, Max, I don't think I can live through another birth."

"You don't think _you _can live through another birth?" She asked incredulously. She scoffed. "I'm sorry, but the way I remember it, I was the one in labor."

"I could have lost you!" He insisted. "Jesus, Max, if I'd just been a little more careful-"

"We wouldn't have Jaime and in no world would that ever be okay." She finished for him.

"I loved Rachel and after she died… I thought that was it for me, didn't think I 'd ever find…" He sighed, unable to complete that thought. Finally, it was just easier to reiterate his arguments of all those weeks ago. "I can't lose you."

She shifted uncomfortably, as she always did when Rachel was brought up. Partly because a very small teeny tiny part of Max's mind winced whenever 'Rachel' and 'love' were used in the same sentence. Unless, of course, it was on the very improbable chance that Alec would one day say 'Yeah, Rachel was great, but I never knew what love was until _you_ came along.'

Then she forced the thoughts away and got back on track. Max wanted to smack him upside the head. He was such… such… such a frickin' _guy_. She was fine. Jaime was fine. What the hell was the problem? But she didn't finish the thought aloud. It would be easy to make light of his fears. It would be easy, but it'd also be grossly unfair. Regular people had enough issues with abandonment and loss, but compound that with the twisted, guilty mental mess that Manticore heaped upon you- No, she could understand his issues… Or at least understand them enough that she'd stop giving him shit about it. Especially now that it seemed he'd finally worked through it all on his own.

He waited for her to yell at him, to tell him to get _over_ it already. He was surprised when her arms snaked around his neck. "So," She asked. "Does this mean we're cool, now?"

It was of course then that Alec remembered that Max was very much of the naked. Funny how just talking to her was more consuming than sex could ever be. His smile became devilish. "If by cool you mean-"

She cut him off before he could throw out some suave, macho euphemism for sex. "Yeah, thanks honey, but I still don't feel like it."

"Are you _kidding_ me?"

Ahh, the reins of power, back where they belong.

Still, she made it up to him that night.

* * *

Max insisted that Jaime looked like him. Alec didn't see it. Course, he didn't see how babies could resemble anyone other than another baby with their wide eyes and soft round faces. 

"He's got your nose."

"He's got a cute, roundish thing where a nose should be."

"He's going to get your freckles."

"Yeah, so maybe he's not as dark as you, that doesn't mean he's gonna get my coloring exactly."

"Alec-"

"Max, babies have two distinguishing features." He ticked them off on his fingers helpfully. "Eyes... and hair... or the lack thereof. His eyes…" He trailed off, shrugging. "Yeah, they're not yours but they're not mine either. And the hair? I'm sorry, but my hair's never been that dark, not even after six months in Psy Ops. So by my reckoning, he looks more like you."

"Fine." She conceded.

"But you're wrong," She added as he began to lean back in victory.

Jaime's head swiveled back and forth between the two, almost as if he were trying to follow the conversation. Then he whimpered as something more pressing come up. Two heads swiveled to look at him.

"He's _still _hungry?"

"He's seven months old, Alec, he's not as small as he used to be."

Alec scratched the back of his head. "We really need to start thinking about supplementing his meals with something."

"You're telling me." She grumbled.

* * *

Alec wiped the mashed banana from his face with only a hint of annoyance. Max smiled at him from the doorway. 

"It suits you." She grinned.

"You think that means he doesn't like it?" Alec leaned away from his son, who was waving a banana coated hand at his father.

"I think he's just trying to share."

Alec could feel the sticky residue drying against his skin. "How thoughtful." He said blandly. "I vote next time we mash something that comes off easier."

Alec looked back at his son, just in time to get another smear of Jaime's lunch down his face. Jaime's small fingers pressed against Alec's chin and he laughed in delight as Alec sighed in annoyance.

"You can stop laughing now." He wasn't talking to Jaime.

It was actually easier for Max to just leave the room than it was to stop laughing.

* * *

The months were just flying by now, propelled merrily along by Jaime's discovery of the world and Max and Alec's shared wonder in all things Jaime. Like most new parents, they delighted in his newfound abilities and emotions. Maybe even more so than some parents, having known so little about children going in to it and having no childhood stories of their own to draw from. In a small way, it was like Jaime was giving them back everything Manticore had taken from them. 

That and he had their hearts grasped firmly in his chubby little hand.

Their lives weren't completely consumed by their son, but pretty close. They still had each other and the whole thing of 'holy crap, we're on an island, survival of our family is the number one priority.'

There was something else that'd been consuming Max's mind lately, though.

Max hadn't gone into heat once the entire year. She suspected that it had a lot to do with the hormones that regulated breast feeding. But Jaime was getting older, showing more and more interest in his 'real' food. That and it was getting to a point where Max's body just couldn't keep up with Jaime's stomach. But if it was getting time for him to be weaned and the only thing stopping her from going into heat was breast feeding… Now what?

Would her heat just spring on her one day? Would she and Alec be so engrossed in each other, their surroundings would just fall away? With their child very much a part of their surroundings, that was simply not an option, and hence why Max was putting so much thought into the evil Estrus bitch that shared her body every four months. Max doubted that she'd ever be so consumed by sex that she'd forget about her child… but just the same she didn't want to risk it.

And add all that with the possibly heightened chance of pregnancy…

So she spent many nights counting and recounting the time from her last Heat. But she had no idea how her pregnancy and the following year had affected her cycle… She sighed, letting her head thump against the table.

Stupid Manticore.

What was the frickin' point of an estrus cycle, anyway? As the breeding program, Gem, and now Max had demonstrated, a transgenic could get pregnant at any time, without their heat cycle coming in to play. Without even the benefits of ovulation and menstruation that Ordinaries needed to get pregnant, for that matter.

Max didn't know it, but transgenic reproduction was a scientific oddity that even Manticore hadn't completely figured out. She didn't know it, but she wouldn't have been surprised if she had. She'd decided long ago that the gene-splicers at Manticore were retards with too much time and money on their hands and if they fact they worked for Manticore wasn't enough, their inability to test their theories and gene combinations _before_ turning them into living, breathing beings was proof enough that they didn't have enough moral or ethical fiber to fill a thimble.

Still… one day her heat _would_ make a comeback.

And she had no idea what she'd do when it did.

More than that, she wanted to smack Alec. Every time she brought it up to him he'd frown, all seriousness, and say, "We'll deal with it when it happens."

That wasn't good enough! She wanted a plan, damnit!

In one of her sulky moods, he was forced to finally concede. "You know, I don't really know what'll happen either."

"But you said-"

"Max, all that stuff I said about heat was frickin' hear-say from other trannies. I've never been with a transgenic during heat."

She paused. "Never?"

He rolled his eyes. "Yeah, for some reason Manticore really frowned upon their soldiers getting busy during the middle of secret ops."

"So-"

"So, we'll deal with it when it happens." He said gently.

Max sighed. It was amazing that something that'd once filled her with excited trepidation now only produced wariness and fear.

Alec was better able to control his own fear. He'd walked away from her twice when they'd been gripped by their DNA. And although it wasn't a pleasant sensation, kind of like tearing something within himself in half, he knew he could do it again. And he'd do it in a heartbeat if it ensured the care and safety of his son.

* * *

Before they knew it, it was a new year, and they had more pleasant things to dwell upon. Like the fact that it was January 16th, and Alec was putting up with Max's admittedly tuneless singing once again. 

"Happy Birthday to you… Happy Birthday to you, happy birthday, little Jaime, happy birthday to you…"

Jaime grinned, completely oblivious to the significance of what was going on, but aware that his parents were grinning like idiots at him and therefore life was good. Chubby hands pounded at the ground as he bounced up and down.

"Look at him, being all cute." Alec rolled his eyes. "C'mon buddy, the McDowell men are not cute. Sexy and dangerous, sure. But cute is just-"

"Shut up, Alec, you know you like it."

"Fair enough." Alec pulled what he'd been hiding behind his back to his front, showing it to Jaime.

Jaime stared in astonishment at the _thing_ that had appeared from behind his father. He reached for it, and Alec relinquished the present to the infant's grasp.

"Aww, Alec, it's so cute."

"Hey," he protested. "What did I say about the cute thing?"

Jaime happily started pounding the wooden boat into the dirt.

Max and Alec exchanged a glance.

"Should I start on a new one now or wait until that one is destroyed?" Alec asked dryly.

"You might wanna start a new one now. He's really goin' to town."

"Ah, that's just 'cuz he doesn't know what it's for." Alec scooped up his son, walking towards the waterfall. He sat at the water's edge, gently pulling the toy from his son's tight grasp. Jaime's lower lip trembled.

"Look Jaime," Alec consoled him, "Look at the boat." He put it gently in the water, keeping his son securely on his knee. Jaime watched in rapt fascination as Alec gently pushed the boat about the water's surface. After a moment, he struggled in his father's grip, reaching for the toy.

"See? He gets it." Alec grinned up at his wife.

"Sure about that?" Max grinned back, watching her son.

Alec looked back to see his son repeatedly dunking the boat beneath the surface.

"Nah, he just wants to work for Sunshine Cruises, that's all."

"Alec!"

Alec smirked. "Yeah, I thought that was a bit of a low blow."

"Ba ba…" Jaime looked up at his father, pointing at the water.

Alec's smirk softened into a smile. "Boat," Alec corrected. Jaime had started babbling a few months ago, throwing consonants around like they were goin' out of style. And since he'd been pointing at things of interest for months, Max and Alec were trying hard to keep up with him, supplying names for the world around him.

"Ba ba," Jaime repeated.

"Boat," Alec repeated.

"Umm, Alec…"

Alec glanced up, to see that the boat had made its way to the waterfall and was caught in the spray. He rolled his eyes, handing Jaime up to his mother before diving into the water. Jaime howled in laughter. Looked like good fun.

* * *

"Where's the squirt?" 

Max rolled her eyes. "Sleeping next to Ba Ba."

Alec smiled in pleasure. Max cut him off before he could start. "Yeah, yeah, Alec is the undisputed master of gifts." He could have taken offense but he watched how her hand unconsciously glanced across the pocket of her jeans, as though she were checking something.

She always kept the pearl in her front pocket. She didn't like for him to know it, but every so often he'd catch her hand rolling over her jeans, ensuring that small gift remained with her. Alec looked up and caught her eyes. They were soft tonight. The transgenics had spoken those suffocating words only a handful of times since her pregnancy had ended and her hormones had dissipated… but sometimes in her eyes he could see it…

_I love you._

Max smiled softly at her husband as he reached for her. Closed her eyes, just breathing, as her face buried into his shoulder and they stood, holding each other, as unified as they could be while remaining separate.

Alec licked dry lips, his arms tightening around her, before asking softly, "Max?"

She breathed him in, "Yeah?"

"If none of this had ever happened…" He spoke softly into her hair. "Would we have made it?"

Her eyes snapped open and her face tightened. What do you say to something like that? She hesitated, unsure.

"I…" Her words died, her eyes darting around, desperately seeking an answer. Would they have gotten together had they stayed in Seattle? She'd thought about it before. And to be honest, she just didn't know. And as much as she wanted to just say 'yes', she didn't know how honest that would be...

He waited patiently for her to collect her thoughts. Before he realized she wasn't collecting her thoughts so much as she was drowning in them. A simple yes or no would have done, yes being the preferable of the two. He sighed. "Just forget it," He kissed the top of the head and released her, stepping away.

And though she couldn't help that her mind had stalled when she'd been put on the spot, Max sort of felt like she'd failed him.

* * *

End Chapter 10

* * *


	11. Chapter 11: Don't Blink

A/N: Maybe you guys actually are reading my update stuff. Yay :) ...Rewriting after the computer crash was brutal, so thanks for your patience. 

* * *

Castaway

Chapter 11: Don't Blink

* * *

Jaime was a little over a year old, and the distant horizon was no longer a constant mockery of Alec's seeming failure. Time had gentled the terror of the previous year; of being stuck on a boat, fighting his way back to his family. Sometimes he wondered if maybe he should have tried harder... Sometimes he would frown broodingly out at that distant haze, at the mysteries that it hid, but Max knew well enough to capture his attention whenever he did.

Not that Max wouldn't mind a good old fashioned rescue, some days. Like today, when it'd be kinda nice to have a babysitter so she could just spend a few moments relaxing, without having to worry about Jaime or her erstwhile mate. 

"Alec, do not let Jaime play with that crab!"

"It's not going to hurt him, Max. Calm down." 

The crab did little more than scuttle away whenever Jaime got too close, but Max kept her eyes on it just in case. Good thing, because Alec seemed to think that the crab's large, oversized pincer wasn't at all threatening. How could it be when the other was so puny? Max didn't agree with him and a small part of her wondered why he got to be the composed, relaxed one and she had drawn the straw for anal retentive. 

The rest of her would never admit to being anal and internally called Alec a jerk. A loveable jerk. But a jerk.

The crab had finally had enough and was holding its ground before Jaime, pincers clicking together warningly. Before Max could spaz, Alec calmly picked up the creature that was no larger than an eighth of Jaime and threw it out to sea where it could live a long and fruitful life away from Max's wrath. Max's steps faltered before she even realized that she'd gotten up from her seated position a few yards away.

Alec arched an eyebrow at her. _You were saying?_

"I'm taking a shower." She muttered, blowing past him, scooping up Jaime as she went. 

"Am I invited?"

"No."

Didn't matter. He invited himself, anyway. Told her she obviously needed help cleaning up her act…

It was a sore point between them, based upon Jaime's second word. 

His first word was not 'boat.' Which is what both Max and Alec would have placed bets upon, had they any money. Boy really did love his Ba ba, and seemed content to keep calling it that, helped in no small part by Max and Alec who _also_ called the boat by the name. 

It wasn't mama or dada, although they both came crashing out of the boy's messy consonant babbling once or twice. The words were purely accidental, however, no matter how much Max or Alec jumped around, trying to get him to repeat it. 

No, his first real and true world was…

"Monkey."

Which he loved to say.

A lot.

In reference to anything.

His compulsive repetition of the word had Max frowning in annoyance at her mate one day in late February.

"He _is_ your son."

Alec snorted. "You sure? I'd only narrowed it down to me and one of the other millions of men on this island."

"Smart ass."

"Ass."

Two heads whipped around to stare at their child who was looking back at them in guileless innocence. Alec turned to look sharply at Max's red face.

"You corrupted my son!" He accused.

"ME!"

"You're the one that throws around 'ass' like it's going out of style!"

"Ass!"

"Jaime, don't say that!" Max shushed her son, before turning back to glare at her mate. "And I don't say it that often-"

"Often enough that our son picked up on it!"

Max knew she'd never live this down, so she pretended like it never happened, cuffing Alec for pointing out her mistake instead. Alec was content to let it slide until he realized-

"He thinks that's my name, you bitch!" He roared when Jaime repeated the directive, waving a hand at his father.

"At least he named you?" Max squeaked. Then polished her embarrassment with a snarky veneer. "Besides, it suites you. Better than Dick, I say."

"I'm going to kill you!"

"Please," She rolled her eyes, lifting Jaime, cradling him against her chest.

Alec paused, his disgusted sneer falling away. "Don't hide behind the baby." He scowled, "That's cheating." 

Max grinned evilly. "I fight dirty."

Alec's annoyance disappeared, replaced with wry amusement in the face of her overused ramification. Man... good thing he loved her. "I'm aware. But don't think you're getting off that easily." He wagged a finger at her warningly. "I have other ways of making you pay." 

Max snorted. "What? Gonna dig a pit and put a leopard in it? Wait for me to fall in? Set up an elaborate booby trap system?"

"If I _told_ you how I'm going to make you pay, it wouldn't be nearly as much fun." He grinned, his wickedness a match for her own. 

Max walked on eggshells for days, wondering when the hammer of retribution was going to descend upon her. It took her a week to realize that his idea of making her pay was to make her _think_ he was planning something and laugh about her neurosis quietly to himself. 

Oh. He was evil. Yes, he was. 

Not that she didn't have her own brand of evil to contend with. 

He ducked and the little giraffe went sailing over his head.

"Jeez, you're violent." He righted himself, his mouth twisting in amusement.

She glared at him. "I pulled that out of your son's mouth."

Alec rolled his eyes. "C'mon, Max, every other thing Jaime touches eventually winds up in his mouth."

"It could have broken and he could have choked on it," She insisted stubbornly.

"Max, it's a toy," Alec replied, exasperated.

"Could you try and care for one minute! Stop leaving your little figurines everywhere!"

"They're not figurines!" Alec insisted. "They're… smallish statues. And I make them for Jaime. The kid needs some kind of toy, Max." 

She just glared coldly at him, even when his eyes widened and he moved past her to their thirteen month old. 

"No, Jaime, spit that out!"

Max turned, ready to lash out in triumph. When she saw what Alec pulled from Jaime's mouth, the words died in her throat. He handed the wet shell to her.

"Think that's yours," He said.

"How is he even getting these off the shelf?" She questioned, pocketing the shell from her collection. 

"That's what I've been saying!" Alec insisted.

In the end, the shell collection and the smallest figures (_not_ figurines) were moved to the top shelf and no more blame was bandied about.

Especially once they realized how Jaime was getting his preferred choice of toys, 'toys' actually being a loose term for 'objects to stuff in mouth quickly before mommy and daddy notice and start jumping around like monkeys.'

"Psst. Max."

She stopped, shooting him an amused glance. "What?"

He waved her over. "C'mere." 

She crossed the distance to Jaime's doorway, and Alec obligingly turned his larger mass so she could peek into the room.

"That little sneak!"

Jaime had hauled himself to his feet with an edge of the shelf and his little questing fingers were groping blindly about for something to get in to. Max's face twisted in a mixture of a grimace and amusement. 

"How sturdy is that shelf?"

"Hasn't wobbled yet." He shrugged.

"Good, I'd never forgive you if one of your projects squished my kid." 

Alec snorted, stepping in to the room, and Jaime turned round eyes on his father. Alec rolled his eyes, being well acquainted with the look, having used it so often himself. _Who, me? I wasn't doing nothin'. _

Alec gently pried the boy's hands from the edge of the shelf, lifted him by his arms and swung him around. Then took slow, mincing steps back to Max, hunched over, holding Jaime aloft by the arms as the boy frowned in concentration, taking wobbly, rocking steps with his father. Alec glanced up at Max, grinning goofily. 

"Tellin' you; any day now he's gonna get it." 

She didn't disagree, just sighed. "My kingdom for a camera." 'Course the gloopy reaction and the pride for her son was followed closely by the desire to launch herself at the man… Who knew that watching someone be all fatherly could be such a damn turn on?

His soft smile for Jaime was replaced by a roguish grin for her alone and he winked. Max had the sneaking suspicion that he although he never planned it, Alec was well aware of how his 'daddy' moments affected her. 

Max's smile softened at the reminder of sex and Alec's lascivious grin fell into confusion. Max still remembered how he'd practically run away from her for months… and rather then make her angry, like it had back then, it filled her with a warm, almost gentle, affection. Who'da thought that out of the ripe grounds of sexual frustration, such telling proof of his care for her would sprout. 

Course she could only look back on it all in fond remembrance because they were having sex again, otherwise it'd be a different story... Or… well… they were having sex as often as having a toddler would allow. Which wasn't much. But it was better than nothing. 

In truth, some days it seemed more of a comfort thing than anything else…

Like one day in April. A day that had its roots in early March. 

The warm March day had started out well enough, beginning with a striking red sunrise that was unmatched by any of the hundreds Max had seen in the last two and a half years. It had only gone downhill from there. 

Jaime was downright cranky the entire morning. Max ended up taking his Ba ba away from him well before noon, because '_we do not hit._' That had only served to make the toddler more sullen. And she and Alec weren't much better. 'On edge' would be a good way to describe it. 

Alec stormed away from her, after she'd snapped at him, and she watched in a mixture of annoyance and remorse as he kicked angrily at the sand, sending a spray of the golden mixture through the air. She kinda wished she had a Ba ba of her own so someone could take it away from her. 

When Jaime's mood did not improve he was put down for a noon nap. If she'd been an Ordinary, turning around to find Alec's brooding presence so close would have unnerved her. As it was, her entire body had come alive when he'd stepped through the door, her senses awash in the song of Alec. The faint shift in the flooring as he'd stepped in. The slight scent of sunshine and trees that was all him. The soft sound of his breath, that not even the wind could mask from her ears.

To say that he was surprised when she closed the small distance between their mouths would be an understatement but not by much. After all, he got her out of her clothes before she had a chance to do much more than gethis shirt off. Alec had some kind of magic power of clothing divesting that Max had yet to truly understand. It could be that she got a bit pudding-kneed and jello-brained when he touched her, but she'd never admit to it. 

But just when it was about to get interesting, he stopped, turning to frown at the doorway.

"What are you-" 

He silenced her with a swift motion, listening intently. "Do you hear that?" 

"Alec-"

"No, I'm serious, can you hear that?" 

Looking at him questioningly, she paused to actually listen. 

"The wind-" She started.

He scooped his shirt from the ground, pulling it over his head. Max followed him closely out the door and they stood on the porch, looking out to the sea. The wind was coming from the west, which was in and of itself strange for their island. But more than that… 

Even from this distance the large cloud was ominous, grey and swirling, creeping up quickly from behind the curved edge of the horizon. Alec put a tight lid on his fear and glanced at Max. 

"Get dressed. I'll get Jaime." 

As Max hurried back to her clothes, Alec went to his son's room and lifted the boy, furs and all, into his arms. Jaime woke, protesting sleepily, but Alec shushed him gently, going back to the porch to stare mistrusting at the darkening beach. The sea was becoming more insistent with each surge against the shoreline. The wind was only getting stronger, and if that giant, roiling cloud was what he thought it was, it could only get worse. Max came out only half a moment later. 

Alec and Max glanced at their home, once, well aware that when they returned it could be gone. Then, without a word, they left it behind, heading silently into the jungle.

The cloud was exactly what they thought it was. Max, Alec, and Jaime made it to the cave as the first heavy rain was dumped upon the island. The jungle fought valiantly against the hurricane (cyclone, Alec corrected mentally), but the wind howled through the trees, claiming the weakest among them, stripping even a few of the strongest of branches. They moved further back into the cave as the wind forced both debris and the waterfall's spray into their shelter.

They slumped against the rocky wall. Alec handed Jaime, wailing now, to Max. Max's arms wrapped around Jaime. Alec's arms wrapped around Max. And they waited out the storm. 

The wind would die abruptly hours later. Alec stood stiffly, gesturing for Max to remain with Jaime while he went out to check the forecast.

He stepped out of the cave. Everything was deathly still, hauntingly silent. Nothing moved within the trees. He swung in a slow circle, took in the waterfall… the water was falling straight again, with no wind to divert its plummet. He glanced up and his breath caught at the brilliant swath of blue sky overhead... but nowhere else. They were in the eye of the storm. 

The hairs on the back of his neck stood up and he whirled around, ducking just in time to avoid the rotting log that the wind had picked up. It splintered on the rock face above him, its broken remains falling around him, showering him with wood and bark, and he flinched as fire flared across his temple. 

And just like that, the storm had resumed.

He moved back into the cave before the wind could try and toss _him_ about. He moved further in, away from the water's spray, touching a hand gently to his forehead, pulling it away to look at the blood that had seeped from the cut. 

"Oh my god,"

"It's not as bad as it looks," He comforted his mate gently, sliding down the wall to sit again next to her. He wiped the blood from his eyebrow, sighing. "We were in the eye of the storm."

"I figured," She said softly, no bite in her voice. 

"It's moving pretty quickly. The worst of it should be over in less than an hour." Alec let his head fall back against the stone, his eyes shutting gently. He felt tired all of a sudden. Old. Like the storm was draining something out of him, but he couldn't say what it was.

Could be the false sense of security he'd been holding onto these past few years. Sure, he'd considered the possibility of tropical storms… But he'd never really thought… 

"You're not going to sleep are you?" Max's sharp voice only held a tinge of panic. His eyes snapped open. Like that fateful boat ride over two years ago, Max just didn't have the necessary brain chemistry to be able to sleep through the storm. And someone had to stay awake for Jaime. Alec wouldn't abandon her, mentally or otherwise, at a time like this. 

"I'm not going anywhere," Alec said softly.

Max nodded grimly, stroking Jaime's back soothingly. His wails had long ago turned to hiccups which had turned to sniffles and then to snoring. To be a child, Max thought wistfully… To calmly sleep through the sudden upheaval of their home, their security, their lives… 

The worst of the storm lasted well over an hour, but it wasn't until well into night that the last of the heavy rains and winds rolled over the island… But they couldn't bring themselves to leave the cave. If their home had been destroyed… 

Better to deal with these things during the light of day. 

The last thing Max remembered was Alec's arm settling around her shoulders, tucking her smaller form under his arm, pulling her in close. Her tumultuous thoughts had silenced after that and although her world was still reeling, something within her was soothed. _All I need is…_

"Max, wake up." Alec shook her shoulder gently.

_You._

She blinked, clearing the fog of sleep from her mind and her eyes. She looked around the cave, almost in confusion. Her gaze finally settled on Alec, Jaime in his arms, and her expression became gentle. She smiled apologetically into Alec's red-rimmed, tired eyes. He shrugged, and then winced, because he'd kept his arm around her most of the night and his shoulder was groaning in protest. 

"You ready?" He asked.

Max felt her throat close at his question, and the real question hidden within. Was she ready? Ready to face the destruction of their home, their sense of security, their frail belief that they were actually making it out here? How the fuck could anyone make it out here? How the hell had they deluded themselves into thinking that they were safe… Life was shaky as an autumn leaf on a good day… why had they ever thought they'd be spared the wind that'd send them tumbling down…

So, no, she wasn't ready. But what choice did she have?

Alec handed Jaime to her and her thoughts silenced at her son's troubled frown. She smiled at him gently, pressing a kiss to the tip of his nose. And she nodded. 

They picked their way through the jungle. Only a few of the trees had succumbed, but branches and debris littered all their old, familiar paths. The made their way through the mess, their steps slow and dogged. Like they wanted to avoid the inevitable. Never make it to the beach. Never see what damage the storm had wrought. 

Their hushed voices, their somber moods, threw Jaime off and the slightest thing could set his lower lip to quivering. Until they got to the beach and he pointed happily at the ground. "Ba ba!"

There was Jaime's boat, lying in the sand.

Of course the house was gone. 

The orange tarp lay plastered against the treeline and the remains of the shelving and Jaime's bed littered the edge of the jungle. Splintered bamboo littered the beach, drying husks. Most of the wretched remains lay collapsed around six solid posts, still jutting defiantly from the ground. Far from bemoaning the loss of their home, Alec swallowed, wondering what would have happened if they hadn't had the cave to fall back on. And then pushed the grim thoughts away because they were too horrendous to even consider.

It took them a long moment to move towards the remains. Max paused, sliding Jaime to her hip so she could stoop and pick up a fur from the ground, one that'd been part of their bed. "My God, Alec…"

"We're fine," He interrupted gently, controlling his own reaction so he could soothe hers. "We're safe. That's all that's important…" His voice thickened and he fell silent.

She nodded after a moment, letting the fur drop, trying to control the biting tears threatening to spill. Jaime was still fixated upon his Ba ba, and was beginning to squirm. Alec's arm fell over her shoulder. 

They couldn't cross the rest of the distance. Max went to the ground first. Alec sat next to her, and they stared at their broken home in a funk. 

She finally let Jaime go. The boy frowned in concentration, rolling forward to push himself to his feet in that shaky way of a foal, before standing on wobbly legs, holding on to Max's shoulder for support. His face narrowed in interest and he took his first few rocking steps. 

He collapsed next to a strange black contraption, its red blinking light fascinating him. He picked it up, turning to smile at his mother.

Far from the happiness most parents would feel at that moment, Max burst into tears. Alec's arms settled around her shaking shoulders and he rocked her gently. 

"It'll be okay." She heard him whispering.

She couldn't speak. But even if she'd been able to, what would she say?

How could it ever be okay?

It took some time for their emotions to calm and when they had the sun was past its zenith. Why hadn't the earth stopped? Why was time still moving forward? She felt as if she'd blinked and the world had collapsed around her. Why wasn't reality reflecting that?

She turned her attention back to Alec who was still frowning from her suggestion. "No way in hell are we moving into the jungle. If another storm does hit, it's no safer in there than it is out here." He pointed at the cut on his forehead. "Believe me, this was almost a lot worse." 

Her eyes flicked over the red line abover his eyebrow before she turned to look again at the debris strewn across the beach. "And when the next storm hits?"

"We'll rebuild. Again." He said matter-of-factly before staring thoughtfully at the ocean. "And we'll add a Jacuzzi." 

She didn't have the strength it'd take to roll her eyes. But he was right. When it wasn't storming, the beach was far safer than the jungle, especially now that they had a toddler to worry about. The four-legged cats on the other side of the island generally steered clear of the two-legged's domain… Last time Alec had stumbled upon their territory, one of 'em had tried to take a bite out of his hide. She didn't know how they'd react if they felt their demesne was being encroached upon. 

And when it was storming, well, neither the jungle nor the beach was safe. 

For the first time in a long time, Max longed for Seattle.

Alec frowned, dirt running through his fingers. Max crouched next to him in the area that'd once held Jaime's room, took in the dirt held in his hand.

"Prognosis?" She asked.

He dropped the rest of the grit, wiping his hands together. "We were lazier with our room and Jaime's. Probably why their posts failed but the main room's remained standing. We're going to have to dig deeper this time." He glanced at her. 

"So, do we rebuild here or what?" 

"What choice do we have?" She asked.

None.

Unless they wanted to build a tree house or something.

"I said no, Alec." 

"Cooome on." 

She frowned at him. "You are such a spaz." 

He smiled, all teeth, evidence that he'd only been trying to lighten her mood. Then he stood, offering a hand to help her up which, typically, she accepted despite the dirt dusting his fingers.

Jaime's second attempt at walking, that night as Alec laid bedding across the floor of the cave, was greeted with much more enthusiasm than his first. 

It was still the rainy season, so it took longer to rebuild then they would have liked. They spent most nights in the cave and their days on the beach. Alec collected the materials once more while Max cleaned up the area. They salvaged what they could from the remains, which wasn't much, but every little bit helped. Rain or shine, Alec was out, scouring the river for plots of bamboo. Exorcising his demons, Max knew. 

They did little to change the new home from the original design. The main room was rebuilt first. It took a few days for Max to get used to it when they first moved in. It didn't smell right. Still smelled faintly of the river that the bamboo had been harvested from and not at all like their home. She learned to ignore it, knowing that one day her family's scent would overtake the jungle's and their house would be a home once more. 

They built their room next, making it a hair smaller than the original bedroom. The original room had been built to accommodate two bodies sleeping as far from each other as possible. That was no longer a reflection of who they were, so the extra space was unnecessary. 

That extra space was incorporated into Jaime's room, instead. After all, they'd originally built their son's room in the grips of denial, thinking it would be for storage. The new room would be more reflective of a bedroom and less of a closet. In the interim, Jaime slept in Max and Alec's room, which neither minded in the least, both being slightly more clingy and paranoid after the storm.

By mid-April, the house was almost finished despite all the extra care they were putting into the construction. Not that they could ever storm-proof their house. Still, the extra posts, deep within the ground, the extra reinforcement of the walls and the floors… It wouldn't fall under pressure easily, either. 

_Tricks and treats_, Max knew. The appearance of safety, maybe, but never the full reality. Still, it was nice to _think _that they were doing something productive. 

It was _all_ tricks and treats… Which is maybe why she went to him for comfort… She put Jaime down to his nap and walked back into the main room, watching Alec make cuts along a length of saltwater soaked bamboo. 

"What are you doing?" 

"Starting on a bed for Jaime," Alec grunted.

"Shouldn't we finish his room first?" Her hand glanced across the nape of his neck. She could hear Jaime's soft breathing in the other room. 

He paused in what he was doing and looked up at her. Then glanced away, letting the knife and the thin bamboo drop to floor. He stood slowly, stretching lean muscles in that slow, lazy way reminiscent of a cat. He turned to her, fingering the dingy grey material of her shirt, no longer black. Max lifted her arms, and obligingly he pulled it from her body, tossing it to the miraculously intact table. 

He paused slightly as her hand caressed his cheek, moved upwards to follow the thin pink line above his eyebrow. It was faint and would disappear in the coming weeks but for now it made her frown. 

"I almost lost you, didn't I?" 

His larger hand gripped her wrist, moved it back down and around his waist. "Not even close."

She smiled. "Don't lie to me. I can take the truth." When he continued staring somberly at her, her brows furrowed together. "Alec, what's wrong?"

He glanced away."I…" The words died in his throat as his brooding thoughts overtook his vocal cords. She leaned in to him, thinking maybe he'd be better be able to speak if he didn't have to look at her as well. 

His voice rumbled through her cheek. "This island…" He sighed brokenly, his head hanging low so he could better bury his face in her hair. "Stupid. I'm so fucking stupid. All that shit I talked about tropical storms and how we aren't safe and I just… let myself forget where we really are." 

"At least you thought about it in the first place." She whispered, her emotions rising up to roughen her voice. Stupid. But they were stupid together. And it's not like- "We can't control the weather, Alec." 

"I know that… I just… I just want off this fucking island." His voice broke, his fingers dug into her hips and his pain washed over her, knotting her stomach. 

"Me too." 

And Max was amazed to find that she meant it. For now.

The wall, that wouldn't hold up to hundred mile per hour winds or the shattering of dreams, held up just fine against Max's back, against Alec's gentle thrusts. 

It wasn't about sex. It wasn't about pleasure. It was about comfort. It was about a kiss pressed to her closed eyelids. It was about their foreheads resting against each other. It was about her small hands, caressing the black lines at the nape of his neck. It was about his face, burying into the crook of her neck. It was about the death of their security, picking up the pieces, and moving on together.

By the end of April, the house was finished. The tables and the shelves had been rebuilt. All the furs that'd been lost had been replaced. It was like they'd blinked and the destruction had disappeared. Even the haunting memory of that March day was being softened by the relentless march of time. And they had other things to distract them.

Jaime was now walking more often than an occasional few steps here and there… Well…walking is a bit strong. Wobbling in a general forward direction seems a bit more descriptive. And his newest accomplishment was enough to lull them once more… ease them of the pain the cyclone had brought. It was enough to distract them from the reality of their situation. And that reality was, that in less than three months, they'd have been here for three years and they'd probably be here until the day they died. 

By May… they were both sighing in relief. Theoretically, the tropical storm season was drawing to an end… They wouldn't have to dredge up their paranoia for another five months. Assuming of course that storms would abide by the arbitrary seasonal dates that mankind had placed upon them. Still, they were sleeping a bit easier at night.

Max had yet to wean Jamie completely. Because of another type of storm she was afraid of… the hormonal kind that would wrack her body. Her heat. Alec told her he was fine with that, so long as she didn't breast-feed Jaime until he was six. That'd probably be pushing it. Max hadn't hit him for the comment, but she'd kinda wanted to. And from the way that Alec had grinned afterwards, he'd probably known it too. 

As he was walking away, though, he'd stopped, leaned in close, murmured, "It's gonna happen sooner or later, baby." 

"I vote later." Max insisted, stubborn. 

He shrugged, moving away. Max sighed. She'd wean Jaime the moment they came up with a plan to avoid the evil Estrus bitch; to stop them from placing sex ahead of the welfare of the son. Alec kept insisting he'd be able to resist her when her heat restarted… but there were too many unanswered questions. How does mating affect heat? Would that dark need for vengeance that'd almost overtaken her last time… would that happen again if he refused her? Would he have to refuse her for the sake of their son? Would her dark reaction be greater? Less? Would it disrupt their bond? Too many questions, not a single answer, and Max would just prefer to breast-feed Jaime… 

A sixteen month year old isn't much different from a fifteen month old… more words thrown around, sure, but other than that… Whatever was happening was all internal, so Max and Alec didn't get a front row seat like they had with his walking and what not. They were pleased that he'd finally associated his reflection with himself, that he continued adding to his vocabulary every day, that he seemed to understand more than what he was actually capable of saying. That he only called half the things he saw a monkey. The other half he called 'boat', and that was way better than 'ass' so life was good.

Life was fan-frickin-tastic the day that Jaime first said 'momma.' For most people, anyway.

"Could you at least pretend to be happy?" Max finally scowled at her husband.

"I'm thrilled." He replied dryly. "Took me weeks to break him of calling me 'ass', but he gets 'mommy' right away… Yup. Totally happy, right here." 

"You're just jealous." She smirked, smugly. 

"I'm not jealous, I'm disappointed." Alec replied. "I've been trying to teach him the word 'bitch' for ages. Guess 'momma' will just have to do." 

Of course it was a joke, but Max didn't always appreciate Alec's wittiness. But that's okay because _he_ thought he was hilarious. He laughed to himself long after the sting of her smack had faded. 

It didn't take much longer for the date to creep up on them. July 2nd. That day of unhappy, wistful, disgusted, and pleased reckoning. They didn't talk about it. Didn't bring it up. The date brought with it a wash of confusion. Time had not completely restored their sense of security, but it had brought them back some joy. Happy to be here, alive, with each other, with their son, and yet aching to leave… the confusion was too much bear and it kept their mouths shut the entire day of their third year anniversary of landfall.

The next day experienced a slight blip in their careful avoidance of the subject.

It was close to midday. Jaime was sleeping. The rain outside had them stuck indoors, and rather than being edgy or caged, Max and Alec were enjoying a fabulously lazy day, curled knee to knee in bed. 

The rumbling roll of thunder wasn't accompanied by fear so much as it was by lazy contentment.

"Man, it's better than one of those sleep machines." Max finally said, stretching slowly. 

"Eh?"

"You know… plays sounds of nature to help you fall asleep? Like rain and thunder, or the waves, or birds in the trees." 

"Ha," Alec laughed. "Birds in the trees? Let them come switch with us. Nothing relaxing about a bunch of toucans defining their territory." Then he paused and his fingers glided across her shoulder. "And how do you know about this anyway?"

Max made a face. "Old roommate. Lived with me before Cindy. She had no idea I was a transgenic… just thought I was an insomniac. She got me one of those noise machines a long time ago…" Max paused, her eyes gliding across his face as her expression turned thoughtful. "I wonder what Kendra woulda thought of you." 

"As compared to the fabulous Logan Cale?" Alec rolled his eyes. There was no bitterness in his voice. But it was the best opportunity she'd had yet…

"Hey you." She scooted a bit closer until their noses were almost touching. 

He opened his mouth, to make a smart ass remark about personal space or Logan or whatever, but Max beat him to it, pressing a soft kiss against his lower lip. As she drew away, his mouth fell shut and his gaze became gentle.

"There's a lot of things I'd do over if I could." She said softly. "But… Coming here… being with you… With or without tropical storms or whatever… that's not something I would ever change." 

Alec couldn't find words after that. Kinda hard to when it felt like he had a bowling ball lodged in his windpipe. He finally cleared his throat, tried to lighten the mood. "Really? If I had a chance to do it all again, I'd tell you to hell with the cure, let's just go back to my place and get to know each other better." 

Max shook her head, smiling. "That works too." Then she grinned. "But if we'd stayed in Seattle…" She didn't say that she'd have ended up with Logan, because she no longer completely believed that. Alec's eyes widened in startlement as she finished her sentence. "You'd have at least three more gunshot wounds…" 

"Probably all on the same arm too," Alec covered his surprise with a scowl, glancing at his shoulder. "Why do the bad guys always aim for the shoulder?"

"Didn't want to hit the face," Max teased, knowing full well if she didn't say it, he would. "They were probably scared of messing up something so pretty." 

His tongue caught in his teeth, his eyes crinkling in delight. "Ya know." He paused in pretend thoughtfulness before fixing her with a wide smile, "Flattery will get you everywhere." 

"Last I checked, calling a guy pretty wasn't exactly a compliment. Handsome or rugged, maybe. But 'pretty' makes you sound all girly." 

"Oh, Max…" He chuckled wryly. "The only girl I know capable of putting a compliment and a putdown into the same breath." 

They fell into silence after that, their hands finding each other and clasping together. 

…

"…Sooo… Can I braid your hair?"

"And you get offended when I call you girly." 

"C'mon, Max, I'm bored." 

"Not a chance." 

_5 minutes later._

"Don't pull so hard." Max grumped. 

"I wouldn't have to if you'd stop squirming." He retaliated. 

Squirming was also a good way to describe Jaime in early August.

"Hold still." Max frowned, trying to clean some more mud from his face. He pouted, trying to twist away from her.

"No," It was Jaime's favorite new word.

Max turned in exasperation to her husband, similarly streaked in mud. "This is your fault, you deal with it." 

He grinned, the genetic perfection of his teeth standing out in stark contrast to the grimy handprint on his cheek. "We were just having some male bonding time."

"Well, now you can have some more while you clean him up." 

Max handed Alec their son, going back to the water to clean herself up… Trying to wash Jaime had resulted in some tribal like handprints and muddy streaks of her own… She frowned at her reflection. Jaime's personality was taking on all sorts of new facets… Difficulty being one of them. 

Not that Alec was any better. He put Jaime back down in the dirt. Painted another streak of mud against the delighted youngster's forehead.

At least Jaime's defiance was made up for by his care for his parents. Like when Max was done wiping the mud from her face and was headed back towards them to fuss at Alec when her bare foot caught the edge of a rock and she hobbled around in pain.

"Momma?" Jaime's eyes had widened as he'd looked at her. "Okay?"

She looked into those concerned eyes and the pain in her foot became secondary. "Momma's great."

"Up?" He lifted his arms, forecasting his desire. 

And she'd just cleaned herself up, too.

"You look good in mud, anyway." Alec grinned. 

In September, Alec's shirt was permanently sacrificed to Jaime. The boy swam in the baggy material, but it was better than letting him run around next to naked. And Alec could deal. The temperature rarely changed anyway, only dipping slightly during the dry summer months. Alec's body had long ago become accustomed to the weather anyway. But still, he squinted as he slipped his shirt over the boy's head. 

"Is that a-"

"I told you he had your coloring."

"I don't think that's a freckle. I think its dirt."

"Just admit I was right. He looks like you."

"He looks like both of us." Alec retaliated. It was easy to see that when Jaime was older he'd have the straight aquiline nose of his father, and though his chin was still padded in baby fat, the bitingly perfect lines of his father's were hidden underneath. And of course, there was the hard-to-see freckles, also like Alec's. But Jaime also had Max's dark hair and wide eyes, though it was hard to tell because they were still the overly large eyes of a child. 

And the eyes… the haunting eyes…

If there'd been a female population here, Alec was pretty sure Jaime would have cut a swath through it when he was older. But the thought brought a little bit of fear… that Alec and Max wouldn't always be here for him… and a little bit of sadness, too… because Jaime would never get the opportunity to find a wife, or hell even a few girlfriends. So Alec ignored the thought and finished pulling Jaime's arms through the baggy sleeves. 

As soon as Jaime was released, he took off… and promptly tripped as his legs got caught up in the loose material. 

Alec sighed. "Can't we just leave him in furs for a little while longer?"

"We'll figure out a way to make it work." Max picked up her son from his stunned spot upon the ground, placing him upright. She sat on her knees next to him, tried to straighten the shirt around his small frame. 

Alec's arms folded across his chest. "I feel all exposed." He turned to stare at Max's incredulous expression. "What?"

"Please. You'd run around naked if I'd let you." 

"That's not true." He lied. His eyes flicked across her face. "Besides, I don't like being ogled."

"Honey, you ain't got nothin' I haven't already seen." She let her eyes rake over him, the bunched muscles of his arms, the jeans hanging loose on his narrow hips.

"I feel objectified." Alec muttered, his arms tightening across his front as he hunched into himself. 

"You like it." Max scoffed. 

"Fine, but I get to objectify you next." He stopped to grin. "Preferably while you're naked."

Her mouth twisted in amusement. "Not while your son's awake." 

Alec let his eyes wander over Max in an attempt to annoy her as she tried to tighten his shirt around their son. But as his eyes wandered, his mind did too, until he really _was_ looking at her. 

The changes to their bodies over the years had been a gradual thing… so one that Alec and Max didn't much consider when looking at each other. He pulled an image of the Max of Seattle to the forefront of his mind and placed it next to the vision of his Max in comparison. And he was startled to find there were some differences, despite how little he noticed on a day to day basis.

Her hair was longer, naturally. And a bit frizzier. (Don't tell Max, that, though.) And far from the darkness that she'd once lived in, the darkness that'd kept her hair similarly shaded, living in the sun had brightened her hair to a shade somewhere _between_ black and brown, had kissed the strands with slight undertones of red. Max didn't much like it. Said it reminded her of Sam. Alec loved her hair. The Max of Seattle had been gloomy. His Max was warm, and he liked that her hair reflected that. His eyes wandered down her profile, took in her body as she was hunched over Jaime.

Max had always been… well… a twig with boobs was a harsh description that wouldn't have done her justice… yet it remained fairly accurate. But though Max had always been small, the ripped, faded, and fraying jeans that'd once been snug now hung a bit loose around her hips… Because there was very little on her that wasn't muscle. She still had the boobs, of course, slightly more so than she'd used to, even. (Helped in no small part by Jaime. Thanks pal, owe you one.) Alec cocked his head, took in the tightened muscles of her abdomen, swept down to look at her ass. The Max of Seattle, while by no means had ever had anything that hinted at 'fat', had also been a bit softer than the Max of the island…

Or at least, that's what he remembered of his infamous ass-grab incident of three years ago in comparison to any of the numerous counts of ass-grabs during the current period of time. 

"Are you done objectifying me?" He was pulled from his thoughts to see that Max was watching him in amusement.

He smiled. "Not even close. I'm _comparing_ you."

"To who?" She scowled, her face darkening.

"Yourself." 

She paused, unsure of how to come back at that. Finally her gaze softened and she muttered in confusion, "Cryptic much?" right before she turned back to her son, brushing some of his dark hair from his forehead gently. Alec smiled at her. He liked both versions of Max of course, but no one could blame him for liking his Max, with her hard exterior and soft interior, a little bit more than the Max of Washington, who'd been just the opposite. 

Time kept marching onward, paying the inhabitants of the island no heed. Max would often find herself wondering where her days went. It seemed like only yesterday, Jaime had been a newborn, completely dependant upon them… Now look at him…

Alec paused to catch his breath, leaning down, resting his hands against his thighs, head hanging low. He glanced up at her, his mouth twisting. "When did he learn how to run and how the hell do we get him to stop?"

"Language." Max scolded.

"My bad." 

"Son." She reminded.

"Oh, right." Alec took off again, trying to catch up with his extremely mobile progeny before he did something like run into a tree. His unsteady gait may move him quickly across the small stretch of dirt between the trees and the sand, but the boy had yet to master the skill of stopping… 

As impossible as it was, Max wished time would just freeze. Just stop. Stop marching onward. An eternity on this beach, in this moment, just her, and her mate, and her son, and carefree happiness. No worries about the future. 

An impossible dream, but a wistful, lovely dream as well. As it was, she was doing her best to worry less about the future and enjoy each moment as it came… But Max was scared she'd blink and Jaime would suddenly be a teenager and she'd have no recollection of where the time had gone. 

Max blinked and Jaime was two years old. She smiled in a mixture of melancholy and wistfulness at her son's confused expression.

"I pick?"

"Yup. It's your birthday. What do _you_ want for dinner?"

Jaime blinked, as if he didn't grasp the concept. Which he didn't. "_I_ pick?" Jaime didn't usually have a lot of say in what was for dinner. Max and Alec didn't tolerate his pickiness. He ate what they got him for dinner or he waited until breakfast. There wasn't enough variety here for them to adjust to his wildly swinging tastes. 

And yesterday had been the last day Max would ever breast-feed him. Max, who knew very little about children outside of the scope of her own son, hadn't realized how large a two year old was. So her plans to keep it up until he was two and a half… Well, that wasn't just going to work. As it was, though he'd only occasionally breast-fed, stretching it this long had been ridiculously difficult. 

But that meant, in four months-

Max shook away the thought, smiling at her son. "Monkey? Fish? What does Jaime want?" 

Jaime's eyes narrowed, his little lips pressing together. Max's heart stopped. Dark hair or no, god he looked like his father. 

"Bo-ff."

"Bo_th_?" Max corrected and questioned at the same time. 

Jaime nodded. Max glanced at Alec. He shrugged. "You get the monkey, I'll take him with me to get the fish."

"Alec-"

"It's his birthday, Max. You know he likes when he take him in the ocean."

"Just-"

"Be careful, I know. I'm not gonna do anything to risk him, Max." There was only a tinge of exasperation to his voice. Max frowned. It's not that she didn't trust him, it's just that she worried; there was a lot out there that she and Alec had little control over. 

When Max came back with the monkey, Alec and Jaime were already back from their swim and their catch was already smoking in the smoldering fire near their home. Alec was chasing Jaime through the surf, the water splashing up around them, glistening golden in the sunlight.

Another moment to try and keep forever.

Max blinked and it was March. It was warm. It was clear. It was warm. 

Very warm.

_Achingly_ warm.

"No," She whispered, shoving away from Alec's sleeping form. _No._ It was too soon. She'd only stopped breast-feeding two months ago. Should have taken longer. _No_. It was like last time. Strong. Too strong. Why was it so strong? Her face buried in her hands. _No._

Alec shifted in response to her distress, waking slowly. He smiled softly at her, his hand reaching out to settle against her thigh.

_Yeees._ Then she blinked, and she shook her head, clearing some of the fog. No, she meant no. "I gotta go," She croaked. 

"Go?" He asked in confusion, sitting up, unaware of the way in which Max's eyes followed the tightening of the muscles of his stomach. "It's still early- Oh." His eyes darkened a bit as he regained full lucidity. "Yeah," He finally said roughly. 

Yup. Should really get-

"Oh god," As his nose followed the curve of her neck. "Alec," As he stopped to let his tongue press against that pulse point below her ear, tasting her, tasting the imperceptible hormones thick in the air. His hand trailed gently down the other side of her neck, his fingertips caressing her barcode, squeezing the curve of her neck possessively.

Which is maybe how she ended up in his lap, wriggling against him, pressing as close to him as humanly possible. 

It'd take Alec a moment to remember that they were trying to avoid caving to Max's alternate persona. He pulled away from her mouth, but couldn't will his arms to unwrap from around her. 

Luckily, there was one universal truth that saved them from going any farther.

Children are the most effective form of birth control there is.

"Momma, what's doing?"

Max sprang away from Alec. "Jaime!" 

Jaime smiled at them both. "Momma, I's hungry."

Despite the way her body was pulsing, Momma Max kicked the shit out of Estrus Bitch and took over brain function. "You _are_ hungry?"

"Yes," he nodded emphatically. "I _are_ hungry." 

"Grammar is hard," Alec just shrugged when she turned her eyes on him. But the darkness was burning behind his eyes, flaring in time with her body, so she looked away quickly. 

She stood, offering her hand to her son, which he took. "Well, let's go see what we've got." 

Jaime offered his other hand to his father. Alec pressed his teeth together in an attempt at a smile… "Gimme a minute, rockstar." 

They'd spend the entire day dancing around each other, doing their best to avoid each other… and yet the cats that were trying to claw their way to the forefront couldn't avoid the hunger for touch, couldn't help teasing each other either. A quick caress across the small of her back as he moved past her. A hand that lingered just a moment too long after she'd asked him to go after Jaime. 

Walking on eggshells wasn't at all comparable. Walking on a bed of nails teetering on the edge of a cliff was probably closer to how the atmosphere truly was. 

She put Jaime to bed, turning to see Alec leaning in the doorway. Her insides clenched at his lazy, indolent look.

"I'll stay with Jaime tonight." She offered, her entire body screaming in protest. His face widened into a slow smile. 

She was tearing at the button of his jeans moments later, her hands shaking in want. He barely had enough presence of mind to pull her away from Jaime's room before she could calm her hands enough to try and make a successful attempt. But before she could, Alec blinked, clearing his head, stilling her hands with his own.

He caught her eyes, gently asking, "Do you want me to go?"

"Go?" He knew the tinge of panic wasn't really her. Nor was the way she smiled predatorily at him afterwards. "Why would you go?" 

"Max, seriously. You almost tried to have your way with me in the same room as your son."

She blanched. Then she frowned, shoving away her hunger for a moment. "We took care of Jaime all day without anything happening. We'll be fine, so long as one of us can stop it from getting too far." 

"It'll only get worse from here, you _know _that."

"So we won't give in." She sniffed. The mistress of denial, as always. 

Alec sighed. Which meant_ he _couldn't give in. He was the most lucid of the two when she was in heat, so he should be the one to stay with Jaime. But he wouldn't even attempt to talk her into taking off into the jungle when she was only operating on half her circuits. 

Well. This was going to be fun. The human and the animal, battling for dominance. The animal was telling him that the call to mate was the most important thing, the tomcat instinctually insisting that heeding the heat was above and beyond the need to protect any young. The human was disgusted by the animal and kept a tight control on the reins of his consciousness.

Alec _hated_ Manticore. He wondered if the sick fucks had done this shit on purpose. 

The second day was similar to the first, but Max spent more time taking showers. And more time trying to entice him as he withdrew from her teasing, glancing caresses. She pressed a hand to tired eyes as the water fell around her. She felt like a schizophrenic… She could _feel _the animal and the human warring within her. The animal recognized the need to protect her young, but couldn't escape the compulsive desire to mate. The human was disgusted by both the animal's lack of control and its ability to wrest control from her. So she was under the waterfall. Again. At least Alec had enough presence of mind to avoid her. Which she both blessed and cursed him for.

Cursed him for when he wouldn't come in that night, when the need had her at the point of tears.

"You're really going to sleep outside?" Her voice was thick with unhappiness and she knew it and she hated and she couldn't control it.

"The closed space... It makes it harder. I don't think I can..." He trailed off… Watching as she slumped. 

How the fuck had he gotten across the beach?

"Max," He gasped as she reached for him.

Her hands trailed up his chest, clutched at his shoulders. "Make it go away, Alec. Just quick. It'll be quick. Just make it go-" 

His mouth slanted over hers and he pulled her roughly to his body. 

Despite the haze of heat, she could clearly remember every place he'd taken her. There on the porch, at first, face pressed into the wall furthest from the doorway. She struggled against him, against his precision, doing her best to shove backwards into him, even after he'd captured her hands and held them against the wall. She remembered almost crying in relief as her body had quaked, offering a slight release from the ache. 

She remembered jumping him five minutes later as he'd been peering into Jaime's room, making sure the boy was still asleep. She remembered the way they'd crashed into the table when he'd been overcome, their hands grasping at flesh, barely registering as it collapsed beneath them. She remembered not even stopping to wonder if Jaime had woken up. She remembered how she'd kissed him and tasted blood, the last testament of his will, his teeth digging into the soft flesh of his cheek the only thing that was letting him hold out. 

From there they stumbled into their own bedroom. They didn't get much sleep that night. They fell into a light doze close to morning, wrapped around each other. She'd wake before him, slide her too-tight skin against his, straddle him as he was still trying to dredge himself from sleep, grip his hair, devour his mouth as soon as his eyes were open. He let her take control for only a moment before the cat demanded dominance and he rolled them both. 

A voice had Alec pausing, even as Max was clawing at his back.

"Daddy."

Their heads head snapped towards the doorway. To their son. "Jaime?" His eyes widened as he regained a bit of clarity. He threw a pelt over their naked forms and the movement made Max's eyes swing back to him. He watched the cat wrestle her for control. 

"Daddy, I are hungry." 

His eyes rolled back into his head, his arms trembling as Max reflexively shoved herself up, along his length. Guess the cat had won. "Stop that," He hissed at her. She blinked. Then frowned.

"I'm trying." She grit her teeth, slid back down, ignoring the way he groaned. She pulled away from him completely. Then stilled with a purr as his hand pressed her hips into the pelts beneath their skin.

"Jaime." Alec's voice was strangled. "Go get back in bed. I'll take you for breakfast soon."

"Daddy,"

"_Now_, Jaime." 

Jaime frowned unhappily at his father before stomping back to his room. 

"Quick." Alec said against her mouth as soon as he heard Jaime throw himself back into bed. 

"Super quick." She promised, wriggling closer to him. 

Afterwards, Alec left her dozing, curled in the furs. 

Jaime, despite his reluctance to return to bed, was asleep once more. Alec woke the boy gently. Jaime pouted at being woken up, obviously having already forgotten that he was annoyed he'd been sent back to bed in the first place. 

Alec fed him quickly, his mind half on his other half asleep in the other room. The distraction was brutal and Alec wanted the heat to just be _over_ because his son deserved his full attention. 

He'd wake Max gently an hour later. "Hey you." 

She smiled at him. And though she wanted him, her body was a bit too tired to work up a good reaction. "Hey back." She still managed a grin full of dirty promises. 

"Switch me."

She blinked. "What?"

"I'm exhausted." He pleaded. "Take Jaime out by the beach or the waterfall... just somewhere far away from me. We'll switch again in an hour." He left it unsaid he didn't think he could be near her today, because exhausted or not, part of him just wanted to stare, mooning, at her until he was able to get her underneath him once more. 

Her limbs groaned in protest but she finally managed to shove her clothes on. Alec had fallen asleep almost as soon as he'd collapsed in bed. 

They switched Jaime duty the rest of the day. And it worked for them, despite one or two close calls. A touch that turned to a caress that turned to a kiss and then almost to something more, if Jaime hadn't been there to pull them back to reality. 

Still, now they knew. Jaime _was_ enough to distract them from their DNA. And though a day later, when it was finally all over, when neither of them thought they'd be capable of having sex ever again and they'd be disgusted by how easily the cat had suppressed the human, it was still a welcome relief that they hadn't tuned the boy out, that they could still pull away even when the hormones were at their worst. The cats may have a won a few battles, but the humans had won the war. 

And maybe some trannies would have argued with them. Said that the human and the cat and all the other animals were all integral parts of the whole. Shouldn't be about one trumping the other… well, Alec would've told him to fuck off, because nothing about heat was about combining humanity and the cat. It was about a struggle between two natures that shouldn't exist within one body. 

They didn't talk about it for days afterwards. Didn't talk about how they hadn't cared about crashing into the table. Didn't speak about how it hadn't registered that Jaime could've woken up and walked in on them at any point. Didn't mention the way Alec had quaked while still within her, unmindful of the possible consequences. As achingly pleasurable as it'd been, they were still slightly disgusted by the whole matter and couldn't bear to bring it up. 

The weeks brought no change in her scent, in her mood. The relief was overpowering. It was almost two months after her heat, in the beginning of May, before they were convinced she wasn't pregnant… But that also meant that in another two months, they'd be doing the whole thing over again. They tried not to think about it. 

… And something else was terribly wrong.

Max was edgy. Tense. She didn't know why she was pacing. She didn't know why she'd escaped to the top of the waterfall. She didn't know why she kept staring out at the horizon in fear.

She'd assumed another storm was on its way. 

She didn't know that it was life coming at her fast; throwing something wholly unexpected shockingly and suddenly into her lap.

Which is maybe why, when she saw the boat, she almost fell off the waterfall in surprise.

She scrambled down the slope, the rocks slicing at her palms as she slipped a bit halfway down and fell on her ass. She ignored the slices in her skin, picked herself up, and moved quickly down the rest of the way. She got to the bottom, moved through the rock wall. Stopped to stare at Alec, staring at the horizon. 

"Alec," She whispered.

He turned to look at her, his eyes dark. He glanced past her, to the unlit firepit they'd rebuilt after the hurricane had destroyed it last year. 

"Alec, please." He knew instantly what she was asking.

"Max," He croaked. "Don't ask this of me. Please. I just want what's best for us." 

Her stomach was tied in knots. She couldn't explain her dread. She had no reason for the fear that'd haunted her since earlier in the week. But it was there and it chilled her heart.

"Alec, we can't go back. That's not our home anymore." 

"I thought… I thought you wanted off. Please, Max, I can't… I can't…" 

She crossed the distance to him and her arms wrapped around him tightly. "No. Please. Don't. I can't explain it… But-"

"Just ask, Max." His eyes begged her to not ask. "You know I'd do anything for you…" 

She licked her lips. Looked at the ship moving slowly across the horizon. Looked back at the firepit behind her. "Please, Alec. Don't… Stay here with me. This is our _home._" 

His hands cupped her cheeks. He turned her face upwards, stared into her eyes. He pressed a hard, broken kiss against her mouth. Then he pushed her away and stalked away from her.

"Alec-"

"I need some time." He whispered harshly. 

The pyre remained unlit long after the boat had disappeared from view. 

It'd take days for him to be able to speak to her again. And only because she'd finally turned on him. "You're your own person," She'd shouted. "You could have done whatever you wanted. But no, you passed the buck to me. Well don't blame me, pal. You didn't have to do like I asked."

"But why did you ask? What is about this place?" He shouted, his voice thick with frustration. "Why the hell do you want to stay here? After the storm last year and the heat… how could you still want to stay?" 

She bit her tongue. Why did she want to stay? Because she was happy here, quite possibly the happiest she'd ever been. Because the dangers here still seemed slightly less than the dangers there. Because looking at the boat, her body had screamed of a dread that had no name, no cause. It'd screamed of death, and she had no idea why.

There was no answer she could give him to make him understand. So she remained silent. Long after he'd stormed back into their home, she remained silent. 

The boat never came back. So maybe her fear had been unfounded. Maybe her instincts had been totally and completely wrong and it hadn't been the outside world searching for a way to draw them back in. Just a random ship, cruising by…

Her instincts had been right. The noise drew her from her home two days later. 

It was a sound both hauntingly familiar and distinctly alien. Her head cocked to the side and her eidetic memory supplied her with the information only moments before Jamie pointed in wonder.

"Boat! Boat!" Jaime called most things he didn't know by the word.

"No, Jamie." Max's eyes followed the craft as she breathlessly corrected her son. "That's a plane."

"Pwane." The boy rolled the word around his mouth. 

It wasn't a plane. Not really. But Max didn't know if Jaime's little mouth was ready to tackle 'helicopter.'

Alec crashed into the clearing, breathing heavily. His eyes found hers immediately, and despite their strained silence of the last few days, they connected quickly on another sort of level. The boat must not have been a coincidence. Someone was looking in this area for a reason. Maybe it had something to do with them. Maybe it didn't. 

But if it did…

If they fled and those choppers was carrying friendlies, little damage would be done. If they stayed only to find White's men on board… Better to get a head start when playing hide-and-pounce.

"Cave?" 

"Jungle."

He nodded briskly. Neither of them wanted to be cornered in the cave. At least in the jungle they could keep moving, keep evading. 

Alec calmed his breathing, turning a wide smile on his son. "Hey little man! Wanna go in the jungle?"

"No." He wanted to stay here and look at the pwane.

"Figures." Alec rolled his eyes. "Just like your mother. Never want to go anywhere."

Max frowned. "Is this really the time for that?"

Alec shrugged, picking up his son despite his protests. They finally silenced him by grabbing the boy's boat and taking it with them into the trees. 

Max spared one last glance at their home. She almost wished they'd taken Alec's suggestions all those years ago… Their home would be easily visible to whoever was in those copters. And friendly or enemy, Max wasn't entirely sure she wanted-

"Max," Alec was waiting for her at the tree line. She nodded, turning her back on her home, crossing the distance to her mate. His hand found hers and they slipped into the trees. 

They stopped and listened as one of the choppers swept overhead fifteen minutes later… probably on a sweep of the island. The other must have landed on the beach. But just as they could not see the helicopter through the thick canopy above, no one from above would be able to see them either.

They'd hear the search parties begin their sweeps a half hour later, when both crafts were finally on the ground, the air search turning up nothing. They stayed well clear of the parties, usually groups of two. They wanted to wait until they could corner somebody alone and check his status; friend or foe. 

They'd get the chance around midday, when one of the trackers stumbled into the area that they were currently in. Whoever it was had ditched their partner back at the river, seemingly annoyed. 

"Climb," Max hissed when she realized their tracker was less than two hundred yards away.

"What?" He whispered back.

"No one ever looks up." She countered. He rolled his eyes, but took Jamie from her anyway. 

"Hold on tight, champ." The boy held on to his father's front and Alec did his best to scramble up the tree without scraping his son against the rough bark. Max followed soon after. And then they played the waiting game. 

"What if it's the good guys? Hiding from them seems kind of counter productive." Alec said out of the side of his mouth.

"Shut up," She hissed back. "It could just as easily be White and you know it." 

He fell silent. Minutes passed. And then it came, a faint rustle to the west. Whoever it was had finally caught on that they were in the area and was waiting for them to reveal themselves. Alright, draw 'em to their position and ambush the ambusher. 

"Whoever it is, they suck at tracking," _Argue with me, we'll flush them out._

"Oh come on, Alec." _Be careful,_ as he stepped lightly on the braches, crossing carefully to a close neighbor. 

"I'm just saying." A roll of the eyes, _I'm fine._

"Oh, and you would have found us by now."

"Well, yeah." Alec caught a glimpse of his target as he followed their soft, echoing voices.

"Maybe they don't have experience in the jungle."

"Then Mr. Tracker is not Manticore." _Adult, male, no barcode. _

"You do realize that we've become pretty good at the stealth thing, right? Is it so hard to believe we could have hidden from another X-series that easily?" _Could still be an X. Don't hurt 'em too bad._

"So now you're arguing that it's the good guys? Come on, Max, make up your mind."

"Sometimes I hate you."

"Fair enough."

Alec dropped from the tree, right into the path of their tracker. The man's eyes widened in surprise and all the air rushed from his body as Alec's powerful shoulder rammed him into a trunk. Before he had a chance to retaliate, Alec had him pinned. 

Alec held him against the tree, snarling into the man's face. "Who the fuck are you?" 

"Extraction… team…" The man wheezed, unable to speak much around Alec's forearm at his throat. 

"Yeah, sure, but who's side are you on?" Alec growled.

"Hurts…" The man gasped, his air supply diminishing. Guess that was his way of saying he wasn't part of the Cult… but White had humans working for him as well, so that didn't mean shit to Alec. 

Seemed like all of his worst fears come to life when another person charged from the trees, hitting him in the side with a jolt of electricity that made his teeth snap together. 

Max bit her lip to control the shriek of rage as Alec slid bonelessly to the ground. 

Get Jaime to safety… And then… 

Make them _pay_. 

* * *

End Chapter 11 

* * *


	12. Chapter 12: Inside Out, Outside In

A/N: Good news: I finally caved and bought The Sims: Castaway… which is actually the namesake of this fic. :X … What can I say, it was being advertised the same time I first started writing… Hee. Must go make little Max and Alec and get with the WooHoo-ing… Bwahahaha. Now… someone go fetch me my happy dances! Well… try and happy dance. This is another SUPAH long one, so you very well might not have any brains left to jiggle your legs by the time this is over. Seems like the longer I take to post, the longer these chapters get. Case and point: one month and 46 pages. Yup. Chapters 12 and 13 were originally only one chapter. Even I'm not that evil: I don't think even the most die-hard Castaway fanatics could have sat through 20,000 words in one chappie.

* * *

Castaway

Chapter 12: Inside Out, Outside In

* * *

Max crept along the length of the branch, away from the enemy.

She dropped to the ground, silently, moving into the trees just as Alec was making a weak grab at the punk who had tazed him, his eyes burning in hatred and rage. The stick hit him again in the ribs, sending tremors of sharp, fiery pain through his body, the crackle of electricity like a thousand molten knives, jabbing into his muscles. The tazer would be ripped away only a few blessed moments later, and Alec slumped, angry and unwilling, into the dark void of unconsciousness.

"You idiot! The sandy-haired man ripped the tazer away from 494's ribs and his younger partner's grasp. "He's not feral!"

The man could have glanced apologetically at the transgenic on the ground, but 494 was so completely still he had to make do with glowering at the punk X-6 that'd been forced upon him as his teammate.

526 had never liked kids. Not even when he was a kid. He'd spent much of his freedom avoiding kids. And there was nothing quite so annoying, in 526's mind, as teenagers; kids that thought they were adults. He'd thought, when he'd ditched his younger partner back at the river, that the day would finally start lookin' up. But _nooo_. Now he was once again stuck with a loud ball of energy that thought he knew everything about everything and to top it off, now he'd have to radio "mission control" (only slightly less annoying than teenagers) and tell him they had all 6 feet worth of 494 accounted for, but sorry, he happens to be a little, teeny, tiny bit unconscious right now.

526's expression became even more annoyed, if that was possible.

The red-head glanced away from the older transgenic's glower, his skin blanching under light freckles as he glanced at 494, remembering the crazed rage burning in the unconscious man's eyes… Not feral? The kid kinda wished he still had the tazer 'cuz he had a feeling if 494 could move, he'd be in deep shit. "But… he was attacking you…"

"He was also talking in complete sentences." The older man clicked the device off, stuck it into a cargo pocket at the side of his pant leg, far from the hands of jumpy teenagers who should have been left at home. 526 grunted in annoyance. "Fuck. I told Cale only people they knew should be part of the search parties…" He trailed off, righting himself so he could stare hard at the canopy above. "Now... where did the other one go?"

"452?"

526 snorted. "No, the orangutan he was chilling with." The teen bristled at the condescension, but the older man ignored him, still peering hard into the foliage. "Of course, 452. Now… Where is she? They were talking," The older man rubbed at his raw throat in annoyed realization. "Luring me to them. She should still be here somewhere."

She was less than a hundred yards away. Years on the island had given her stealth above and beyond that of the city-dwellers in the clearing nearby. She sat Jaime on a log. All the big cats kept to the other side of the island, the hilly terrain suited them better. Here was too close to the beach… too close to the larger, more dangerous cats that lived on the beach. The two-leggeds and the four-leggeds had an unspoken agreement to steer clear of each other's territory… Which was the _only_ reason Max was even considering leaving Jaime alone for a moment. She'd be quick. Real quick.

Two snaps and she'd have her mate back.

"So, you count as hiiiigh as you can, and you don't move, you hear me?" Max fixed her son with a stern expression. Jaime was immune, his eyes widening.

"Mama, youse leavin'?"

"Mommy has to go get daddy, pumpkin."

"Daddy sleeping?"

Max's wide, fake smile strained her face, made her cheeks hurt, made her heart hurt. "Yup. Sleeping good."

"I come with?"

"No, Jaime." She said sternly. "You count like I told you and when we come back, you tell me how far you got, okay? If you do real good, daddy will take you swimming."

"In da ocean?!"

"Exactly."

Jaime scrunched his eyes tightly shut and started counting. Swimming in the ocean was a rare treat only occasionally afforded to him, and he wasn't gonna screw this up. Max kissed her son on the forehead. _I'll be quick_, she told herself again, unhappily. What else could she do? She couldn't lose her mate and she wouldn't carry her son into danger…

She moved silently back to the clearing, glancing back once or twice (or, y'know, every other step) to make sure her son was still struggling through his numbers. He was.

She crept up in time to see the older man nudging Alec's prone body with his boot. "It should be wearing off in a minute." He was taller than her, but shorter than Alec, thin and almost entirely composed of lean muscle. Max took in his tan cargo pants, dark boots, brown, fitted top. Military. Totally. Then the man opened his mouth again, chuckling wryly, and her heart froze. "Shit, you're either gonna have to take off running or we're going to have to shoot him."

"Over my dead body."

Max believed in giving people a fighting chance. Which is why she'd given them a heads up. Y'know. Before she inevitably kicked their asses. Their heads snapped towards her growl as she stepped (prowled, whatever) into the dappled light of the clearing. But Max's feet faltered as she took in the man's partner. He was just a _kid_; a young teen. Did that mean they were transg-

"452," The older man began.

Max's face became bland. "Ooh, sorry, wrong answer."

"Was there a question?" The red-headed adolescent asked in confusion.

Max grinned, her eyes squinting, her teeth baring. It was an unpleasant expression. "Yup, pop quiz. You two just failed."

"Max," The blonde amended smoothly.

"Too late." Really, her smile could have matched her sweet voice. Maybe. If there hadn't be quite so much tooth involved.

* * *

Jaime was still struggling through the twenties, actually doing quite well for his age, when a rustle from behind made him pause. He frowned, his little eyes taking in the trees around him with seriousness beyond his mere 28 months. Then he realized he'd lost count and he'd have to start over. He glowered and pouted and frowned at nothing in particular and promptly started over, visions of crabs and fishies and eels swimming through his mind.

He hadn't gotten far when another noise made him stop, look over his shoulder, and look up and up and up at the NotDaddy staring down at him. Jaime's eyes widened in fear.

* * *

The teen puffed out his thin, stronger than it appears, chest in pride. "We've got orders from-"

"Oooh, don't tell me." Max looked bored, and the red-head deflated a bit at the interruption. "The Tooth Fairy? Sandeman, maybe? Or maybe someone snaky, serpentine, and smelly?" Her bored grimace/smile turned into a narrow-eyed frown and she tossed her hair over her shoulder, feet planting firmly, body tensing in readiness. "Let's get one thing straight, _kid._ You could be taking orders from Santa Clause and it still wouldn't save you from the beat down you're about to get."

The redhead leaned in close to his older partner, muttering out of the side of his mouth. "I thought they said 494 was the snarky one."

"We all are," The other X frowned back, before starting forward, his hands help up entreatingly. "Listen, Max-"

Jaime ran shrieking right into the clearing. Everybody paused to stare at the boy in dumbfounded shock, bordering on the comical, before Max's head snapped up and she looked hard between the two men, still looking at her son, the older one's face fixed in horrified shock and disgust (like, _could this day get any worse?_). She made a split second decision.

The lesser threat, the teenager, went down first, a well aimed blow across the side of his face causing him to lose consciousness. Her arms came in tight, defensive, ready for an attack, as she spun towards the other man.

But she'd fall absolutely still, face twisting in rage, when she saw the tazer positioned above her mate's heart.

"It's on full, and this thing's settings aren't exactly legal." The man warned, lean muscles tensed, short, slim fingers clenched around the tazer in readiness. "Just give me a second to explain and I'll back off."

"Explain?!" She snarled, ushering Jaime behind her legs, squeezing his shoulder lightly in an attempt to calm his hysterical sobbing "You herd us through the jungle, you attack my husband, you threaten his life, and now you want to explain?!"

The man slowly pulled the tazer away. "Just give me a-"

He didn't get a chance to finish, because that was exactly the opportunity that Alec had been waiting for.

Alec's arm shot out, grabbed the man by the leg, pulled him to the ground. The man, recognizing that his life depended on getting a word in edgewise (after all, he didn't have a family to protect, they'd fight harder because they had more to lose) attempted to kick Alec away, to give himself breathing room… But Alec was back on him in an instant and it was all he could to try and block the larger transgenic's powerful blows. _What the fuck?_ Hadn't this guy just been tazed?

"Fuck! Stop!" He shouted between blows, swinging up his arms to protect his face, "I'm a transgenic!"

Max heard that the same time she heard a radio crackle to life behind her, "Alpha Team, this is Bravo. We're pulling back; one of the X-6's had a run in with a panther," and the short static blast was followed by a familiar, so familiar, oh my god, _it couldn't be_, dismayed voice behind her.

"Everything is… fubar…"

Max turned slowly to stare in shock at the tall transhuman, walkie clenched in hand, sharp, yellowed nails digging unhappily into the heavy, dark plastic.

"J… Joshua?"

Alec, who'd managed to wrap one hand around the man's throat, and had the other raised in a fist above his head, ready to descend, paused, and turned to look at Max… at the tall, familiar man behind her.

"Hey… little fella." Joshua smiled entreatingly, blue eyes, the same eyes she remembered, warming slightly, hopefully.

Alec grunted, dropping to the ground as he was hit in the ribs by electricity. _Again_.

"Stop!" Joshua cried, starting forward. "Not feral! Max and Alec are fine!"

"I know," The blonde man said grimly, picking himself up off the ground. So the move had been a little vindictive, who cares? At least he'd used the lowest setting on the tazer. Besides, he was the one who'd have trouble breathing tomorrow. The X-5 rubbed at his sore chest, wincing as he hit the spots in which bruises would undoubtedly develop. Well… shit. At least he hadn't been punched in the face too many times.

Max's fist cracking across his jaw would fix that.

"What is it with you people?!" He shouted, looking back at her as he rubbed at the pained joint. "What was that for?"

Alec sat up slowly, clutching his rubs, as Max sniffed in annoyance. "What the fuck do you think it was for?"

"Language," Alec reminded with a wince, his voice still low in pain as he almost fell backwards.

"Worth it." She hissed back, crouching next to him, helping him to sit all the way up before she started prodding gently at his ribs. He scowled at her as she touched upon a sore spot but she ignored him, continuing her thorough assessment of damages, momentarily forgetting about their 'company' in the face of something more pressing; the welfare of her family.

Joshua had paused a few steps away, and was looking back and forth between them in puzzlement, glancing a few times at Jaime… Cat… Cat in the cocktail. Two cats. Alec and Max. And even though Joshua's nose had never steered him wrong before, his face furrowed in dismay and confusion…

"Not… not the plan."

The three conscious adults turned to look at him. The teen was still motionless upon the ground. Jaime was still huddling against his mother's crouched form, peeking shyly at the strangers.

"Max and Logan… find the cure?" Joshua asked, slipping the radio back into his heavy-duty army jacket, so he could make that little punching, arm motion that made Alec want to be sick. "Gettin' busy?"

Alec scowled, pulling away from Max and pushing himself to his feet, "Hey, now-"

But Max would interrupt him, standing slowly. "Plans change, big fella."

"Wait… that's your kid?" The other man's narrow face broke into a wide grin. "Shit, I thought you guys just… dunno, rescued a baby or something. The way everyone talks about the way that you fight…"

Alec looked back as the blonde leaned down, taking gasping, pained breaths between laughs, clutching at his ribs. "Oh, man! Cale's going to shit a brick!" Max froze at the name as the X glanced up and caught Alec's eyes.

The men bonded on an instantaneous level in the face of a common enemy. "What's your name, man?" Alec asked.

"Designation is 526. But I go by Jake." Jake nudged the long-limbed, gawky, still unconscious teenager, with his boot. Damn. 452's fist was like a brick, he thought in a mixture of glee, because his partner was finally quiet, and annoyance, because his jaw hurt like a bitch. "This little shit goes by Zasz." Jake supplied helpfully.

"Would you mind toning down the language?" Max asked blandly, covering her discomfort easily.

Jake grimaced, shifting unhappily, vibrant green eyes darting towards Jaime. "Yeah, sure. Sorry."

"Trust me," Alec grinned. "She has no room to talk."

Everyone just kinda stared at each other for a moment and the ill-lit clearing descended into uncertain silence…

Then Joshua had crossed the clearing and lifted Max into a hug and she was trying so hard to fight back tears and Alec was looking a little awkward right before he got swept up into a bear hug too. Joshua released him, grinning wildly, and Alec lifted Jaime into his arms, looking between his son and the taller transhuman.

"Jaime, this is Joshua."

Joshua smiled at the boy, showing large canines, and Jaime hid his face in his father's neck. Joshua's smile fell slowly, a small whine escaping the back of his throat.

"Joshua-" Max started.

"It's okay, Max," Joshua looked down. "People-"

"It's not that you're different, Big Fella." Max said gently, her arm glancing across the tall man's sleeve before she pulled away in discomfort. "Jaime's… he's never seen anybody other than us." Then she turned to look at her son. "Jaime, you know Joshua… We've told you 'bout him before, remember?"

Jaime peered again at the tall NotDaddy. He gave 'the Joshua' a small, shy smile before burying his head back into his father's hair, breathing in the scent that he knew and could trust.

"He's just shy," Alec shrugged, shifting the boy in his arms. Then glanced at Max. "No idea where he gets it from."

"Don't be stupid," Max scoffed, getting sucked back into their own little world. "These are the first people he's ever met."

"Well, at least they were right about the fighting part," Jake muttered, stifling his annoyance as Zasz sat up with a groan, rubbing at the bruise developing on his temple. Jake pretended interest in the trees and the dirt and the, oh, gross, bugs, for as long as he could before Bravo Team's helicopter sweeping overhead, headed back towards the east, gave him an excuse to lose patience.

"Hate to break up the reunion," Jake interrupted the cheery scene of Alec tryin' to get Jaime to speak to Josh, gesturing with a thumb at Zasz, still a bit bleary-eyed, "But now that Sleeping Beauty is awake, we should probably head back to the beach. There's a chopper waiting there to get us off this tropical hell hole."

Jake pretended not to notice the way the other two transgenics stiffened and then made themselves relax, but Joshua frowned. And then Jake remembered he still hadn't radioed 'mission control.' Heh. Letting Cale stew in his juices, from his spot of safety over 600 miles away, wouldn't hurt anyone.

The walk back to the beach was torturous, laborious. Part of Max wanted to pepper Josh with a thousand questions; how was everyone, what had he been doing, what had happened in their absence, was White still alive, was the cult still on the move… The rest of her was too overwhelmed. What could she say to him? It'd been so long. The sound of a voice, any voice, that was not Alec's, not Jaime's, seemed harsh, overwhelming, and somehow wrong in the too quiet jungle.

And there was something else bothering her as well.

The closer she got to the beach, the more her throat thickened, the more her steps slowed. Each step was dragged out of her, unwanted, unwilling, and if she could she'd have taken them all back, Joshua and civilization or no. And she was only mildly surprised to find that Alec seemed just as wary, just as unsure, just as dogged in his own movements.

Jaime kept peeking at the strangers in a mixture of curiosity and fear before burying his face into his father's neck. They'd paused once or twice to console him, ignoring Zasz's put upon sighs, Jake's barely disguised eye twitch, pretending they weren't grateful for the respite that kept them from the inevitably of the beach and a future that was frighteningly uncertain.

They stopped dead in their tracks when their feet passed the tree-line, watching as an unknown X-5 stepped out of their home.

_Wrong_, Max's mind screamed at her, and she shook it away, shook away all the unfamiliar scents assaulting her, smothering her.

"Nice little place you got there," The X-5 said casually.

Alec, feeling Max stiffen beside him, fixed the group around him with a serious frown. "Can you give us a minute." It wasn't a question.

Zasz opened his mouth, but Jake sent him a disgusted, quelling look. He glanced at Alec, almost as sort of an apology. Alec knew that the man shouldn't have to apologize for intruding on their space, for _rescuing_ them, but he appreciated the gesture anyway.

More than one person had been in and out of their home. The subtle shift in scent made Max nervous, twitchy. She didn't like it. Couldn't take it. God. She couldn't breathe in here. She escaped to the porch, but unfamiliar eyes fixated on her, and it made her skin crawl. Alec put Jaime into his room and stepped out of the house, ignoring the discomfort of eyes sliding across his skin. He followed that subtle feeling of _Max_ at the back of his mind and made his way around to the back of the house.

Her found her crouching, her arms wrapped around her body, trying hard to decide between terror and euphoria; between crying, vomiting, or screaming. She glanced up at him as he came around the corner, coming to her feet quickly, calming her face into a neutral expression. He wasn't buyin' and she knew it, but she appreciated that he didn't call her on it.

"So…" She finally said, glancing down at bare, dusty feet. "This is it."

He leaned back against the wall, staring hard up at the blue sky overhead. He swallowed, almost convulsively. "Yeah… I guess it is."

She fell into his arms. "God, Alec… I don't… I don't want to go."

Me neither, he thought, the honesty of the thought surprising him as his arms tightened around her and he pressed his cheek to her hair.

Humans.

Forever in doubt of what they really want.

"We have to, Max." He said gently, his arms a security, the only security in the world available to her now.

"It's all happening so fast," She shuddered, speaking into his chest. She looked up, dark, overwhelmed brown eyes capturing his. "Can we just-"

"I'll tell them." He said gently, squeezing her before stepping away.

"Stay?" Joshua asked in confusion, his eyes widening in fear and uncertainty.

"Just tonight, big guy." Alec corrected gently. Had everyone always spoken this loud? Had he ever spoken that loud? He shifted in discomfort. "You can come back for us in the morning."

Jake stepped forward, undoubtedly to protest, but a large hand closed around his shoulder. Josh looked down at the X, his face serious, and Alec was struck by how old and tired and _knowing_ his former best friend appeared in that moment.

"Max and Alec say goodbye." Josh said gently. The transhuman glanced across at his friend, watching Alec's eyes flood in relief before he shut down the emotions he wasn't willing to share with strangers. Joshua hoped that he wasn't counted amongst the strangers.

Watching the helicopter disappear over the volcano did nothing to assuage their uncertainty. If anything, every tortuous feeling was amplified by the sound of the ticking clock tickling the back of their minds. The countdown to leaving the only world they'd known for almost four years was deafening and oppressing, exciting and unforgiving; it was so many things that they found that they weren't entirely sure _what_ to feel.

She couldn't sleep in the house. Neither could he. Too many scents; it made them nervous and uncomfortable. The bamboo walls felt like steel bars, closing in on them. They needed to feel the air upon their skin, needed to smell the ocean, see the sky; couldn't be trapped, not right now. Jaime was passed out in his room as they lay on the beach, one of Alec's arms folded underneath his head, the other stretched out, a pillow for hers. They stared silently up at the night sky and the twinkling stars that the city would soon hide from them.

She didn't cry, but part of her wanted to. He didn't vomit, but he couldn't get his stomach to settle.

There near the fire, the place they'd first had sex. There on the beach, the place they'd first made love. Within their bedroom, the place they'd first admitted the words of love aloud. Up on the crest of that low, collapsed volcano, the spot of broken dreams and new hope. By the river, the trees that'd stood silent sentry as Jaime's wails had first broken on this world.

So many memories; so many heartbreaks; so much happiness.

She did cry. He didn't, but he couldn't speak around the tightness in his throat. He did kiss her, though, gently. Made love to her, softly. Comforted her, lovingly.

And when morning came, they were prepared for the lone helicopter coming up over the treetops. This was no military issue helicopter though, this was one that screamed of money, privilege, and private ownership. Alec and Max steeled themselves to the possibility of Logan Cale stepping out of the doors.

So they weren't prepared for Cindy bursting out as soon as it'd touched ground and throwing her arms around Max. Cindy pulled away for a moment, her shimmering eyes moving across her friend's tan, shocked face, before throwing her arms around the girl once more. After a moment Max overrode her surprise and hugged her friend right back, softly, almost reverently, before pulling away in discomfort after only a few moments. Alec let them have those moments, eyes scanning the cab quickly; noting with relief the only other person within the helicopter was the pilot, just now climbing out to begin his safety checks for the flight back.

Cindy stepped away from Max, all smiles, and let her eyes move across Alec's lean form. Her gaze swept past him and took in Jaime, one manicured eyebrow rising in uncontrolled shock for only a moment, before she graced Alec, too, with a hug. Alec glanced, startled, over at Max, who merely shrugged. Cindy hugged him for only a second before crouching next to Jaime, giving the boy a no-nonsense look.

"I'm your Aunt Cindy," She said simply. And then squeezed him, too. Jaime squirmed for a moment, but then decided this was a personality he probably couldn't win against, plus he liked her hair, so threw his arms around her neck for half a second before pulling away, glancing up at his dad to see if that was okay.

It was quiet again. Max wondered if all of her reunions within the next few days would be permeated by shocked silence as they struggled to find something to say.

Cindy's eyes flicked across their much-changed and yet, still the same, bodies, wondering… what do you say on such a momentous, unbelievable, wonderful, awesome occasion?

"Four years and you couldn't change yo' clothes?"

Alec snorted. Max's face colored slightly and she opened her mouth to protest when Cindy smirked, walking back to the helicopter to pull a shopping bag from the ground. She handed it silently to Max, pretending nonchalance as Max's face flooded with grateful relief. Maybe it wasn't the most auspicious beginning, but the tears and the heart-to-heart's could be saved for later, and Max was glad for the light-hearted statement that kept everything easy.

"Four years and you couldn't change your hairstyle?" Max teased right back, digging through the clothes that Cindy had the foresight to bring. Nothing for Jaime, though, so when Cindy had gotten out of the plane, she must not have been expecting-

Max's sharp eyes glanced up at Cindy and she wondered what the woman who'd once been one of her closest friends…wondered what she saw as she looked at Max's family. What had gone through her mind when she'd seen Jaime, so obviously Alec's? Cindy appeared unchanged, from the tip of her poofy, crimped, highlighted hair, to the shiny, black boots gracing her feet. How did her family match up to that level of normalcy? Max didn't want to know, so she handed Alec a pair of jeans and a t-shirt, ignoring his statement of 'finally!' (yeah right, he loved running around half naked) before pulling out some clothes for herself.

Cindy was subdued as the family exchanged words over the clothes. Silent as they disappeared into the strange, little bamboo house to change. And yet she was achingly happy in her quiet euphoria. Max. Max was _alive_. Her boo, her girl, her sister, in almost every sense of the word. Her girl was alive and comin' home and what more could Cindy ask for?

Except maybe some conversation.

The family had been unnervingly silent in the fifteen minutes that Cindy had been here. She wasn't sure what she'd been expecting as she'd gotten into the helicopter, headed towards this uncharted island in the middle of nowhere. But one thing she hadn't expected was the silence and how the family communicated in ways that Cindy was aware of but was not part of; glances, touches, looks. An entire conversation held in one silent moment. Cindy felt like she was stuck in a foreign movie; something surreal and spoken in a language she could not comprehend.

When O.C. had cornered Joshua the night prior, demanding to know what had happened, were they okay, what were they like, Josh had smiled through her flood of questions and finally just said "Max and Alec are still Max and Alec." He'd leaned away from her, frowning. "But people… talk a lot, and say very little. Max and Alec…" he shrugged, his shoulders hunching up around his ears, wondering why he had all these thoughts swirling in his head but lacked the smooth speech to communicate them.

Cindy had thought Joshua meant that Max and Alec were still fighting like cats and dogs. That their mouths ran and ran and ain't nothin' came out but a whole lot of nothin'. Seemed like Josh had meant just the opposite. Oh sure, they were still Max and Alec, Cindy rolled her eyes, sitting on the porch, as she heard Max snap at Alec inside to stop messin' around and get dressed. Yeah, Doggy Dog had definitely been right; they were still them. But at the same time, they were something else, as well. Really, they talked very little, but didn't need to because they seemed to communicate on a level that was downright freaky.

And that wasn't all that had changed. The Max and Alec Cindy remembered were not sun-dark, swimsuit models that spoke without words. Whose every movement was fluid efficiency; like living art, alien and animal, but beautiful. The Max and Alec that Cindy remembered did not seek touch, even if it was only a momentary, glancing caress, and only within their family. That any touching happened at all was clue enough to the drastic overhaul of their relationship. And sure as all that was good n' holy in the world, the Max and Alec that Cindy remembered would never have had a son that could be the poster child for some kind of creepy, genetic-perfection, breeding program.

Josh sure as _hell_ hadn't mentioned a word 'bout the child that'd been waiting on the beach. The child with brown-gold eyes and dark hair and the beginning of slight freckles spattered across his nose. Doggy Dog was gettin' the smack down of the century when they all got back to Seattle.

The clothes fit fine, maybe a little baggy, (O.C. struggled to remember if they'd been this wiry and muscled in Seattle, but her memory was hazy) but hey, it was better than what'd they had. Then Cindy glanced down. Alec was wiggling his bare toes into the sand. Damn. She knew that she'd forgotten something. Max followed her gaze and laughed softly. Alec smirked at her, at the silent joke.

"Do you guys-" Cindy started.

"Alec lost one of his boots in a cyclone last year." Max smiled, and there was a hint of pain there that O.C. wondered about. "And shoelaces..." She and Alec exchanged a glance. She arched an eyebrow at him and he shrugged because he'd lost track of his one remaining shoe long ago. As for shoelaces; they'd all been sacrificed over the years to a project here, a mobile for Jamie there, a new way to secure clothing… How long had it been since they'd last worn shoes? Three and a half years?

"We probably wouldn't know what to do with shoes, anyway." Alec said blandly. The corner of Max's lips twitched.

Cindy waited by the helicopter, chatting amicably to Jaime's silent, suddenly nervous form as Max and Alec stood by the door of their home for one of the last times. They hadn't offered to show Cindy their home. Partly because they didn't want to know what an outsider thought of it; partly because it was theirs and it was sacred and now they were leaving it behind forever.

"Do we take anything?" He asked softly.

"You know Jaime would never forgive us if we left Ba ba." Max made a face. Everything else…

What did they have? Shells, carvings, furs? Items of the island, all of which would be out of place within the city. Max slipped one of her favorite pearly shells into a back pocket as Alec wasn't looking because he was too busy tucking a carving of one of their respected adversaries, a jungle cat, into his own. One souvenir each. Alec reached for Jaime's boat and then paused with a frown, looking down at the bottom shelf.

The cheap plastic of the homing device crushed easily between his fingers and that red blinking light, the light that should have died long ago, gave one last slow, angry glare before fading away all together. Max watched, her fingers distractedly glancing over her front pocket, over dark jeans that felt rough, foreign, uncomfortable, over a small, almost round shape within the pocket. Alec glanced up at her, smiling a smile that was not, before making a grab for the boat and standing quickly.

For a long moment they stood in the center of the main room. Max took a few short steps towards their bedroom and her fingers trailed almost reverently across the doorway for one last time. Her hand finally dropped away and she turned to look at him.

"You ready?" Alec asked softly. Her eyes took in the jeans draped on his hips, the light cotton tee covering his shoulders, the things they'd built together surrounding him, the house they'd lived and laughed and loved in… Their life was more than just things, and she could do this. She had to do this. She nodded briskly.

They paused only once, at the front doorway, giving one last glance behind. Their movement across the beach was fast and sure and they didn't look back again. Jaime's face came alive at the sight of his Ba ba, hardly noticing as Alec handed him up to his mother, already within the helicopter, turbine already winding up with a whine.

Everything was so surreal.

Was this really happening?

The helicopter lifted away from the island, heading east, and in a matter of moments, they could no longer see their home as they passed over the dead volcano, long ago collapsed inward, before heading east. The ocean overtook the land in a matter of moments as the helicopter picked up speed. Jaime's face was pressed to the window, mouth round, eyes rounder, and he'd have stood in his father's lap if Alec hadn't had his arms draped loosely around the boy. Alec sat across from Max, his knees crowding hers, his eyes also peering below, but noticeably sharper than his son's. Watching. Waiting. Measuring distance. Max didn't watch the distance pass them by. Couldn't watch her home disappear from view. She watched her family, unsmiling, and told herself that there were some things more important than geographic coordinates.

She glanced across at Cindy sitting next to her, at Cindy's small, still slightly disbelieving smile. The other woman's warm, dry hand clasped hers and Max controlled a wince and shot Cindy a small, quicksilver smile. Alec's knee nudged against her own and it had nothing to do with the movement of the 'copter. She glanced across at him, and he was watching her, his face very neutral, his knee still pressing against hers, warm and solid. She smiled and leaned backwards into her seat to look out the window, letting her hand be held in Cindy's for the time being.

Alec twisted in his seat, shouting over his shoulder, to be heard over the turbine and the motor, "Hey, how fast are we goin'?"

"Cruising at about 130," The pilot shot back.

"Miles?"

"Knots."

So about 150 miles per hour. Max was grateful for the noise of the helicopter that let them avoid conversation for now. The next few hours passed in relative silence. They didn't see the first small, uninhabited island for almost two and a half hours, and the sight allowed Alec to finally, finally relax. Another hour after that and smaller islands started appearing, clustered together. Alec woke Jaime up, pointing at the small, native, tribal boats down there on the water, like little toys, and Jaime exclaimed in wonder, clutching his own boat close to his chest. It took another half hour until they saw signs of civilization that did not live off the land, but bent the land to its will. Condos, huddling against the beach, small cities, reaching for the sky, pushing back at the creeping jungle. Large, shiny, white crafts dotting the water, propelled along by motors. Another helicopter, that the pilot argued with over a radio about who was goin' where and how fast and they had the right of way, on official U.S. business, so piss off, buddy.

Their journey came to an end over four hours and over six hundred miles after it'd begun.

The turbine was winding down when the pilot craned back over his chair, fixing them all with a smile. "Welcome to Tahiti, pearl of the Polynesians."

Alec's laugh bordered on broken, the map so clear now in his head. The inverted arc between Los Angeles and Australia, the route that would take them close to the Polynesians. The explosion of the liner, undoubtedly only a few hundred miles north of the conglomerate of islands. The push of the storms in an unknown direction and rowing, rowing, rowing west. If they'd gone east, into the fishing waters off the coast of the collective…

He wanted to throw up.

Humans are naturally curious, and tourists stopped to peer at the helicopter, at the people inside. The gorgeous man and beautiful woman with sun dark skin, climbing out of the chopper… with no shoes? And the little boy, a little grungy, a little wide-eyed, wrapped up in a grey, frayed, faded shirt.

Eyes glancing at her. Whispers behind hands. A girl in sunglasses, pointing them out to her friends.

Max hadn't felt conspicuous, hadn't felt shame, in almost four years, and the taste was more unbearable than anything she could possibly remember.

"What the hell are you looking at?" She snapped. The girl stiffened, moved away with her gaggle, all still talking, like ohmigod, can you believe that? O.C. snorted.

"Sugah, it don't mean-"

"Just get us the hell out of here." Max hissed. Cindy pursed her lips, annoyed and hurt, and Max immediately felt bad. But she couldn't stand all the staring and the looking and the noise and the smells; just-

"Okay," O.C.'s arm wrapped around her friend's shoulders. "C'mon, boo." Max's hand came up to clutch at her friend's hand, squeezing gently, and they moved as quickly as they could out of the open without actually running. Alec followed behind, frowning slightly, his feet protesting above burning hot concrete that would not yield to his gait.

The ride in the dark, private car was silent. Cindy tried, but starting a conversation proved more difficult than she ever would have ever possibly believed. The silence wasn't broken until-

"What the hell is that?" Max's voice was harsh.

O.C. glanced away, almost in guilt, before explaining. "We thought that maybe, if we did it this way, it'd give you some time to get used to being around people again. We thought after so long on the island, a plane-"

"You do realize," Alec's voice was tense. "The last time we were on a cruise liner it exploded around us."

The large ship sat gleaming in the harbor like a man-made gem of science; welcoming, bright, and beautiful. A modern marvel. Tourists were exclaiming in happy wonder as they boarded. There was a large design on the side of the ship; a bright yellow, smiling sun wearing sunglasses. Sweet Jesus, it was even the same fucking company.

"Are you mental?" Alec demanded.

It was pure evil, and Max had no intention of stepping foot on that boat, _ever_.

"Max-" O.C. tried.

"No way in hell!"

Cindy frowned. She'd worried when Logan had suggested it, but had seemed the lesser of two evils; air travel with the press of humanity, or the cruise, where at least they could hide in their rooms. After Joshua had happily told them, yes, Max and Alec were alive!, Logan had scrambled to set up a room on the liner, calling in almost every favor owed. Joshua had insisted that one suite with two rooms would be best, and it had made Logan smile softly.

O.C.'s eyes widened.

Oh, damn.

Logan. No one had told Logan.

And why was she even thinkin' about Logan, there were more important things at hand; like convincin' Max and Alec that the ship wouldn't try and kill them again.

"It doesn't set sail for two more days, you'll get used to it." She pleaded. "Boo, I promise, ain't nothin' goin' to happen. Not even Hot Boy could be _that_ unlucky. We'll be home before you know it."

_That's _not_ our home. _

The clog of tourists moving across the dock, around the sitting car, made them feel claustrophobic, and they weren't even out there. God, they didn't know if they could handle a plane… They exchanged a glance.

_I don't like it._ Her face was fixed in a frown.

Alec's face was a mirror of her unhappiness, but he shrugged. _Me neither, but it's that or-_

The looked again at all the people moving across the dock.

"Two days," Alec's voice filled the silence, and O.C. was glad, because watching them communicate on a level she could not grasp was almost painful. Time had taken so much. But Alec was still talking, so O.C. made herself snap back to reality. "If we can't handle it, we're getting off, whether there's a plane ticket for us or not."

Maybe it was a bit harsh, but he was jumpy and unhappy and he wanted to get the hell out of here.

They got the hell out of there, passing through the press of people quickly, fluidly, almost silently, following Cindy up and up and into the belly of the beast. Down long corridors, dark and closing in. Into an elevator that Jaime _did not like_.

"See, all done," Max crouched next to him, comforting him gently as the doors dinged and they were deposited on the uppermost level.

Alec whistled as Cindy let them into their suite.

Weeell, someone must have owed Logan pretty big. A few steps down and the living room sprawled before them in splendor. A small kitchenette was hidden off to the right. Two bedrooms, one to the left, a master suite to the right, and ceiling to floor windows running the length of the wall, opening up to a balcony and a view of the harbor beyond. Even the furniture screamed 'class', but the gleaming white carpet, the chandelier, the baby grand next to the fireplace, and the fur rugs were what really gave it away.

Alec immediately took Jaime from Max's arms and carried him into the master bedroom and into the bathroom beyond. Max cursed him for leaving her alone, even though it was undoubtedly for a good reason. She fidgeted as Cindy just stared at her.

"Something on my face?" She grumbled after a few moments.

"Boo, don't even be like that," Cindy frowned, smiled, and frowned again. "You know O.C. is just on Cloud Nine that you're alive."

Max cleared her throat. "Soo…" She glanced around, aching for something to fill the silence. "Who else is on the boat?"

Cindy knew exactly what she was asking. Or thought she knew. "Logan is here."

Max shifted uncomfortably, not even wanting to go there. "Anyone else?"

Cindy frowned, surprised. "Most of the X's that were part of the search parties all flew back… Except for Dalton and Zasz."

Alec stepped out of the bedroom, Jaime's face noticeably less grungy. "Dalton?" He asked with an amused smile, "That little punk is still alive?"

Cindy snorted. "Yeah, 'cept he got hisself bit by some jungle cat on that island o' yours. And Zasz, that boy goes where Dalton goes." Cindy rolled her eyes. "Doggy Dog here, 'cuz you know he wouldn't dream of having it any other way…" Cindy trailed off thoughtfully. "Oh, and Sketchy too."

Max and Alec exchanged a glance. "Gee, Cindy, why not just bring all of Jam Pony." Alec said blandly.

"Quiet, fool," Cindy snapped, a hint of a smile sparking in her eyes, "Sketchy goes by 'Calvin' now… he's covering Max's return to society for his paper."

"Weekly World News?" Max made a face, part of her wondering why the world would still care that a woman who'd led the transgenics for only a few short months was reappearing.

"New York Post," Cindy made a face right back. Max's face must have shown her shock, because Cindy laughed.

"Oh god, don't tell me he wears tweed." Alec sunk into one of the snow-white couches, letting Jaime go free, and Max crossed quickly to him, collapsing by his side.

"Yeah, right, you know that boy still spends most o' his time blitzed out his brains." Cindy still watched, hovering by the door, feeling out of place.

Max could feel the discomfort in the air, but wasn't entirely sure how to dispel it. God, why couldn't things just magically snap back to the way before? Why did she feel so… trapped?

Then Jaime ran smack into the closed sliding-glass door and started wailing. Alec and Max leapt from the couch and rushed to him before Cindy could even take an abortive step down the stairs. No permanent damage, but apparently they'd have to explain the concept of 'glass' to their son. Max rocked him in her lap, pressing a kiss to the top of his head, his eyes still moist with tears. Alec just sat next to them, and that was enough. Cindy watched in discomfort.

When it was clear that Jaime was okay, Cindy made her excuses, saying she'd go get something for Jaime to wear and took off. She paused after she'd closed the door behind her, leaning against the wall, letting her head fall back and her eyes close. Time. They just needed time. And they had a whole lot more of it now, because her girl was comin' home. She could wait. She'd have to wait. She'd be let back into their lives when they were ready.

The excitement of the day and the quite literal run-in with the evil glass door had Jaime tired out fairly quickly after that. And then Max and Alec weren't quite sure what to do with themselves. They stared at each other across the room, looked at all the furnishings, glanced through the mini-bar, couldn't find much interest in the balcony.

"Shower sex?" Alec suggested.

Max rolled her eyes.

"Whoever thought up shower sex must have been some kind of sado-masochistic bastard," Alec grumbled after the failed attempt, because everyone knows there isn't anything quite as awkward as shower sex.

"It was your idea," Max collapsed next to him on the bed in a fluffy white robe, combing through her long hair. He flipped to the next channel, barely registering that she'd spoken. "And I'm the one who should be complaining," She frowned, tucking her legs under her body. "I'm the one that got hit in the head with the showerhead."

"That was an accident." He frowned, barely glancing at her, flipping again to another channel. Max discarded the brush in annoyance so that she could pull the remote from his hands. "Hey!" He protested.

"You have no idea how annoying that is," She frowned. "Pick something and watch it."

"I was watching all of those shows," He protested.

"You didn't stay on any of them long enough to-"

A knock on the door had them stilling.

"Max?"

Sweet Jesus, it was Logan.

"Maybe if we ignore him, he'll go away," Alec said out of the side of his mouth. Max swatted him.

They ignored Logan and he went away. Crisis averted. For now.

They ignored everyone else who came knocking as well. Cindy wasn't happy, they could tell, but she left some clothes outside the door for Jaime as well a pair of shoes for both Max and Alec. And some diapers. Real diapers. Proof there was a god. They smiled at the shoes Cindy had gotten for them all, at the weights that would anchor them to civilization, but didn't put 'em on. What did it matter? They were in their rooms, they didn't need to bow to society right this second.

When night came, they lay next to each other on the soft mattress that, according to the brochure, was supposed to do wonders for the spine. And they lay there for a very, very long time, staring up at the ceiling, shifting in discomfort. Around midnight they moved to the living room and lay upon the floor, on top of the fur rugs, and finally fell asleep, curled around each other.

* * *

The next two days… well, they might as well have been on the island. The spent the days avoiding everyone, as if people were a cyclone and their rooms were a cave. They barely came out past the protective barrier of the suite's front doors. Every meal was delivered via room service, and Alec handled the wait staff, grabbing the food and ushering them back out in a manner of minutes, yes, yes, just put your tip on the room's tab. He'd pay Logan back later. Alec didn't want to be beholden to Logan Cale for anything; not for his food or his privacy.

And when the ship left port, they were still on it. Because they really did prefer hiding in their rooms to the thought of being crowded in a plane with 100 other members of humanity. Not that they had anything against humanity. But for the time being they'd like humanity to stay very much over _there_, thank you.

Thank god Cindy had given them the only key to the room, so that they could ignore every knock. They made an exception once or twice for Cindy, more often for Joshua. Joshua was the easiest, because the big lug was just content to be in the same room with them, lack of conversation or no. And Jaime was slowly taking a shine to the big guy, so things were perkin' up.

"You can't hide forever," Joshua said softly, the second day out to sea. Part of the little bubble they'd created collapsed in the face of reality. In a week they'd be back on U.S. soil, on a plane headed towards Seattle.

Shit.

That night they had Sketchy and Cindy over to their rooms and played at being normal. They didn't do half bad, either. 'Cept after the initial back thumping greeting, Sketchy, gloriously unchanged despite the prestige of new job, kept getting all reporter-like. And the questions started grating on the nerves after a while.

"Not even once?" Sketchy didn't have a notepad, but they could see him trying to burn every nuance, every expression, every word into his brain.

"Sorry, Sketch, raw meat's not really our thing." Max frowned. "Course in the beginning, Alec was such a bad cook-"

"It's getting late," Alec's loud voice interrupted. "We should probably get Jaime into bed,"

Jaime yawned, and Alec told himself he'd introduce the boy to sugar later, as way of a 'thank you.'

Sketch's eyes gleamed. "About Jaime-"

They both came to their feet quickly. "Good night, _Calvin_," Max ushered him to the door.

O.C. would give her a hug as she was leaving. "Thanks for trying," She whispered into Max's hair and Max couldn't help the smile, even though she remained stiff in Cindy's arms.

They had Joshua and Cindy over the next night. And it went well until the end.

"You can't keep avoidin' him, girl." Cindy frowned at her. "You're going to have to face Logan eventually."

Max sighed. "We don't have to do it now-"

But, Alec, surprisingly, would be the one to interrupt. He was leaning against the back of the couch, watching them both, his arms folded across his chest. "Better to do it on our terms. We keep putting it off he'll find a way in here even if we are the only ones with a key."

Max sighed and glanced at her mate before glancing at her friend, and yes, Max realized, even after all this time, Cindy was still very much her friend. "Tomorrow. Tell him we'll meet him tomorrow."

Cindy nodded and let herself out. Alec watched Max as she crossed to their room with a tired sigh.

She was staring wistfully at the bed, wondering why the cruise operators had thought a large, coral colored, spray-painted shell as a headboard was classy, when Alec came in, his mind still roiling. He watched her silently for a few moments before he could no longer contain it.

"Max, I need to know that nothing is going to change."

She pulled herself from her thoughts, turning to look in confusion at his somber form. "Of course nothing-"

"Just stop, Max." He pleaded. "Stop and really think about it before you say anything. In less than 24 hours, you're gonna be back around a guy you clung to for two years, despite limited physical contact. You can't tell me that you feel nothing for him, not after the way you've been avoiding him the last couple of days. "

"You've been avoiding him too," She protested.

"That's different, and you know it."

"No it's not." She made a face. "There'll always be the maybe's and the what if's, Alec. I'm not perfect, I can't help that. But at the end of the day, it'll always be _you_. If I've been avoiding Logan, it's because I'm avoiding a scene, not because I think I'm going to collapse into his arms like some kind of sappy romance heroine."

Alec frowned at her for a long moment, leaning in the doorway. He had to admit, the picture seemed pretty ridiculous… But… "Max, I don't want to be the guy you choose at the end of the day. I want to be the guy that you want when you wake up."

She could have scoffed, but this was too important so her voice remained soft. "You already are."

He paused, as if her were gauging the sincerity in her eyes. He must have found what he was looking for, because the tightness in his shoulders relaxed, an almost imperceptible change that only Max could pick up on. "Promise me that won't change."

"Alec-"

"Promise me." He insisted.

"I promise." She replied softly, completely serious.

They stood in silence for a few moments.

"Wanna give another crack at the bed, tonight?" He asked.

Max made a face. "I guess."

They slept like rocks and when they woke up in the morning, they found that the mattress had done wonders for their spines. Nice.

* * *

The cruise was about half way to its destination on the day that Max and Alec were finally going to allow Logan Cale back into their lives.

"Just… give me a minute with him, Alec."

"Why?" His voice bordered on petulant.

"O.C. says nobody's told him yet. They were saving the honors for us." Max scowled. She could understand why they'd done it, but she still sort of wished that they had just told Logan that she and Alec were together 'cuz it would save her a little bit of time and a whole lot of awkwardness. But why was she even worrying? Logan had probably moved on _ages_ ago. "Just let me tell him but me n' you. Give him a minute to get used to it before we shove it in his face."

"Fine," Alec grumbled. "But if I come in there and you two are making out, I reserve the right to kill him and rip you a new one."

Max rolled her eyes. "That would never happen, and you know it." She pressed a kiss to the corner of his mouth.

Stepping out into the hallway, she glanced at Dalton, easily recognizable despite his greater height, and Zasz, lounging aloof against the wall. "Whaddya want?"

Dalton blinked at such an Alec sound escaping the mouth of someone so very much not Alec.

Zasz, who'd never known Max pre-island, grinned big, apparently having forgiven her for the impressive purple shiner. "We're just the errand boys. Logan's in conference room three, down the hall."

"Where's Alec?" Dalton found his voice.

"He'll… be along in a minute." Max hedged. Dalton and Zasz shared a knowing glance as Max moved away. They waited in silence for a few minutes.

"This guy really good as you say he is?" Zasz finally asked when the silence stretched too long.

Dalton scratched at the arm held in a sling, officially hating the jungle. "Trust me. He's a virtual goldmine of pick up lines."

They descended into silence once more.

Until something occurred to Dalton.

"Has anyone told Logan about Jaime and Alec?"

Zasz shot him a surprised look. "Shit, no. Do you think anyone's told Max about the cure?"

The shared another glance, their eyes wide. "Crap. We gotta head her off before Alec catches up with them and kills us all."

"Who am I killing?" Alec was smirking at them from the doorway, Jaime's hand held firmly in his.

Dalton and Zasz stared wide-eyed at him for a split second, almost comically, before they took off running down the hallway after Max.

Sketchy ambled down the hallway. He moved out of the way of the teenagers as they barreled past him, narrowly avoiding being hit. He caught sight of Alec and grinned, moving quickly over to him and clapping him on the shoulder. "Hey bro! Logan's waiting for you guys down the hall. Conference room three, I think."

"Heeeey. Sketchy. My man." Alec grinned, the transgenic teenagers forgotten. Sketch backed away in suspicion as Alec pulled a five dollar bill out of his pocket… Where… Where had Alec gotten money from? But Alec was still speaking, so Sketchy blinked and tried to focus. "There's a little, teeny, tiny favor I need you to take care of for me while I take care of Logan."

"Dude-"

"Nothing illegal or anything." Alec's free arm descended around his friend's shoulder, the other releasing Jaime's hand to wave Sketchy's ridiculous accusations away.

Sketchy looked back, mistrusting. "Uh-huh…"

Alec smirked, releasing his friend so he could lift Jaime up onto his shoulders. "It's like this-"

* * *

The teens stumbled in, just as Logan was caressing her smaller hands in his, smiling into her startled, wide eyes, attempting to reassure her. "It's okay. You don't have to be afraid. We found the cure, Max."

"The… the cure?" She asked, shocked, looking down at her hand in his. And although part of her was happy she was no longer a walking deathtrap, she couldn't help that after so long on the island…

_Not Alec_, her mind screamed at her.

It was like a train wreck… or a slowly moving horror show, Dalton thought to himself. Like a movie… if only the characters would listen to you yelling at the screen and not go where the killer was hiding, everything would be okay. But he couldn't find his voice, his eyes glued to the upcoming calamity, which is why it was like a train wreck.

Logan searched her eyes for a moment, mistaking her horrified shock for a shock of the more pleasant variety. He smiled softly, swooping in, claiming her mouth with his. Max stared wide eyed at Logan, her mouth unmoving.

"Fubar." Zasz muttered out of the side of his mouth. Dalton couldn't even find a word, making a small, horrified noise with the back of his throat. So, o_f course_ that's when Alec would choose to duck in, ducking because Jaime was still happily riding on his shoulders, fingers tugging almost painfully at Alec's hair.

He slowed to a halt at the sight of Logan's mouth moving over his wife's, his heart plummeting to his feet. He swung Jaime slowly off his shoulders, placing the boy gently on the ground. When he looked back up, his expression became steely, his jaw firming, his eyes narrowing. Dalton and Zasz shrank away from him, from the anger radiating off of his tense form. Even Jaime was strangely subdued, clinging to his father's pant leg.

"Am I interrupting?" His voice was harsh in the silence.

Max broke away, her voice rich in relief. "Alec!"

Logan released her, confused at the potent relief in her voice. "Alec?"

Alec remained unmoving, his face impassive. Max's face tightened, suddenly all too aware of how it must have looked; like all of Alec's fears, come to life. "Alec?"

"Who Alec?" Jaime looked up at his daddy, eyes shining in curiosity. When his dad didn't look back, Jaime swung his gaze to his mom, but she was staring at his dad. Finally, he peeked at the stranger near his mom in shy curiosity.

Logan felt his breath catch. Eyes of gold; eyes of brown; together in the face of a child. The golden stare made part of Logan's world crumble into dark nothingness. Alec found his voice, and looked away from Max.

"Who's Alec? That's me, sport."

"You not Alec." Jaime said in disdain, looking away from Logan and back at his father.

Alec's wrath was forgotten for a moment, replaced by amusement in the face of his son's superior, knowing tone. "No? Who am I then?"

"Daddy," Jaime answered, looking down in embarrassment as he held tighter to his father's leg.

"That's right," Alec smiled softly at his son, before looking up at Max and Logan, his eyes shining in victory as he rolled the word around his mouth, savoring it. "Daddy."

Max, feeling Logan stiffen next to her, decided that the next order of business would be for her first hard drink in almost four years.


	13. Chapter 13: The AnythingButLove Boat

A/N: The second half of the original chapter 12. Hee.

* * *

Castaway

Chapter 13: The Anything-But-Love Boat

* * *

Dalton nervously cleared his throat and when too many eyes turned to look at him, he figured this was a good time to beat it. So he did, pulling Zasz along with his good arm.

Logan swallowed, glancing between Jaime and Alec and then looking again at Max. "Why didn't you tell me?"

"I thought…" She trailed off. She'd thought… Well, she'd _hoped_ that he'd be over her by now. It'd been almost four years. A cure and a kiss had been the furthest things from her mind when she'd walked through that door.

Okay, so a small part of her had wondered how her hair looked, but she'd been in love with the guy for a long time, so could you blame her? She wouldn't be the first female on the earth to wonder about her appearance when faced with the prospect of meeting an ex-boyfriend that wasn't complete scum. And hair wonderings or no, that's all Logan was; an ex. Not even going into all that bullshit, he-wasn't-like-that stuff, all Logan could be now was her past.

"Well," Logan's voice was dry. "This is awkward."

Alec snorted. "That's what happens when you kiss someone else's wife, pal."

"Alec-"

"Well, someone could have told me," Logan said softly, his voice slightly accusing. "Jeez, Max, _you_ could have just told me instead of avoiding me. Or you could have said something when I kissed you."

"Hey," She protested, wide-eyed when Alec also looked at her in accusation, "Don't blame this on me!"

Logan's head hung in shocked disbelief and unhappiness, lord, was he still doing that, and then he started, glancing back up. "You're… not wearing any shoes."

Max was, and she didn't like 'em, but Alec and Jaime weren't. Alec shrugged. He'd tried to get Jaime's on the boy, but they'd gone the way of the balcony as soon as Alec had turned his back. No one could deny that his son was a sneaky little bugger. And if his son didn't have to wear shoes for a short trip down the hall-

"Yeah, so?"

Logan shrugged, not saying anything. Probably trying to be polite. Sometimes Alec hated polite people. Just say what you mean and get it the fuck over with. Mr. Sophistication probably wouldn't have had a problem with it if Max was the one-

"I guess… we should talk about the war, then." Logan's soft voice cut off his sharp thoughts.

"That's still going on?" Alec grunted in annoyance. Guess it was too much to ask that the Familiars would just crawl into a hole somewhere and fucking die already.

"We can talk about that later," Max interrupted, moving away from Logan, crossing back to her mate and her child (who was beginning to look very, very bored and that was never a good thing). "Let's talk about the cure and the how and the why and the what?"

Logan leaned against the edge of the gleaming oak table that fairly filled the room, frowning softly. "White's always been an evil bastard."

Max's mouth dropped open in shock. Alec's didn't but only because he was herding his son away from that expensive looking vase. "White cured you?" Max asked.

"No, " Logan shook his head. "Dr. Xen… White's lure._ He_ cured me. He sent me the antidote a few months after you disappeared. I don't know if it was a parting shot or to assuage some vague kind of guilt or what, but whatever it was, there it was on my doorstep."

"And you took it?" Max demanded. "It could have been anything. Jesus, Logan, it could have killed-"

"I didn't much care then," His voice was soft and Max felt guilt well when he glanced up and their eyes met. The darkness behind the already shadowed blue orbs hinted that maybe the past four years might have been easier for her than it had been for him; and not just because of her absence. He'd said the war was ongoing... Which maybe explained a new, slight scar at the top of his lip. Other than that, physically, he seemed to be doing well, and not much had changed. His hair was still short, spiked slightly. He was dressed nicely in dark slacks and a blue button-down; in fact, he was dressed _so_ nicely that Max wondered if his financial woes had been cured along with the virus. New glasses with sharp, silver rims, probably a stronger prescription, sat on his nose, but the lenses could not hide the hints of lines around tired eyes. The combination of age and a life that wasn't all roses was finally catching up to Logan and for a moment, Max almost felt… pity?

The rest of her wondered.

What had she missed in all these years? Who else had been hurt in her absence; physically or emotionally?

She cleared her throat and looked away. "So, what was the cure?"

"Apparently, we were tackling it the wrong way. It wasn't you we should have fixated on, it was me."

Alec was paying attention again, having not missed the little moment that had passed between his wife and the other man. He pushed away the annoyance. Come on. Who did Logan think he was kiddin' with that hair? Wasn't he almost forty?

"Do you know how they cured Polio, Max? Or how they used to protect people against small pox, measles, or tuberculosis?"

Max's eyes widened in pained, surprised understanding. "Inoculation. Putting dead, non-infective strains of the virus into the body until the immune system can catch up and create a natural defense against it."

Alec laughed softly and Logan looked sharply at him. Alec shrugged, only a little sheepish. "I'm sorry, I'm just… surprised I guess. I'd never have guessed it'd be that easy."

"It wasn't," Logan said. "There were a few close calls but my body finally caught up."

Logan sent soulful eyes at Max and Alec gave up on his sheepish expression as he was overtaken by a bloodthirsty cat. "So," His voice was loud in the silence. "About that war-"

"Mama," Jaime wandered away from his father and all the interesting things his father wouldn't let him get into. "Mama, I's hungry."

Max started to correct his grammar, but shrugged, remembering how well it'd worked last time, and then blushed because she remembered what she'd been doing last time she'd corrected that sentence. Alec leered at her and Max decided a hasty retreat was best at this point in time. Ten minutes of this kind of drama was enough for even the most hardcore angst fanatics. Of which Max was no longer. And who knows what would pop out of Alec's mouth if they stayed here for too long.

"Guess we gotta go," She said apologetically, but didn't sound very sorry. "We can talk about the cult and the war later."

"Max," Logan started.

"We got a few days 'til we hit L.A., Logan," Alec interrupted, gleefully ignoring Logan's annoyance. Guy would just have to learn that he and Max were a package deal now. Can't speak to one and hope for silence from the other. Then Alec frowned. "Unless you broadcasted our trip to the Familiars again, I think we'll have enough time to talk about it later."

"That was a low blow," Max hissed, remembering Logan's stricken face, as they were making their way down the hallway.

He frowned. "I've been waiting almost four years to say that, baby. You're just pissed 'cuz you didn't get to say it first."

True, but remembering the raw pain etched across Logan's suddenly older face had cured her of the vindictive desire almost immediately.

She forgot about it because after a few moments of silent debate, and a stop to put on some shoes, they forced themselves go eat at a relatively casual restaurant on one of the lower decks. It was the middle of the day, but the crowding wasn't that bad, and even if it had been they wouldn't have cared _too_ much because Jaime was introduced to the wonder that is dessert cake and who could be annoyed in the face of that kind of rapt adoration?

"Oh, what a beautiful little boy," An older lady would gush and Max was only mildly embarrassed that about half of the cake Jaime had eaten so far had ended up on his face. She wiped at his face with a napkin, but he wasn't havin' any of that and squirmed away, shoveling more of the cake into his mouth, completely unaware of the importance of a fork. The woman tsked, shaking her head. "Boys always are a handful,"

Then her eyes flicked over them. "You know," She murmured in demure politeness. "In this day and age, with skin cancer and all-"

Alec's face was bland. "Sorry if our tans offend you but we've spent the last three years and ten months stranded on a tropical island where sunscreen wasn't exactly an everyday commodity."

Max popped him as the lady moved away in a huff, trying to control the laughter. "You really are a dick, sometimes," She grinned at him.

He smirked back, his eyes gleaming. "Remember the good ole' days when you only fixated on my ass?"

"Ass!" Jaime waved a cake coated hand in the air.

Heads turned to look at their table.

Max and Alec hunched together, trying hard to control the snickering and wishing that they cared enough to shush their son, but they were unable to kill the good mood that'd reared as the first bite of chocolate cake had slipped past Jaime's lips and his expression had turned to bliss. "I really hate you sometimes," Max grinned.

"If this is your idea of hate, a man could do worse," Alec shrugged, leaning back into his chair, his arm coming up across the back of hers. They watched their son finish the last of his dessert in silence, still grinning like maniacs.

Logan had never been an easy man to get rid of, though. After the first few days, he'd learned that they wouldn't answer the door, so he didn't attempt to stop by again. He did, however, finally get smart and called them, that same night, instead. Logan politely asked to speak to Max, which was way better than the casual demands the man had used to fling at Alec, so he rolled his eyes and handed the phone off to his mate.

Alec tried to eavesdrop on the conversation, but all he got out of it was a lot of 'uh-huh's, 'yeah, okay's, and one or two 'fine's. He'd have liked for a 'whatever' to be thrown in there, but apparently Max wasn't feeling that bitchy.

"Logan wants to talk about the war," Max hung up the phone, turning to look at her mate.

"Now?" Alec asked, glancing at the green LED display on the microwave. It was almost eleven p.m. Guy sure had terrible timing.

"Tomorrow," Max corrected with a sigh.

"Am I invited?" Alec made a face.

Max shifted uncomfortably and Alec had his answer. But she tried to cover, teasing lightly, "You know I'd take you anywhere,"

"Why am I always the arm candy?" He grinned back before frowning. "But seriously, you don't want me to go, do you?"

She sighed, "Don't look at me like that. If you come it'll be all awkward,"

"And if I don't come he'll spend the entire time making doe-eyes at you, trying to convince you that you're only with me because he was the idiot that fell for White's trap and caused us to be stuck on an island for four years," His voice became angrier with each word, until he was practically snarling.

"That's not fair, Alec," Max frowned. "He didn't know. And I agreed to go to New Zealand in the first place. And so did you, so stop your bitching."

"Honey, the day you tell me to stop bitching about Logan is the day I toss him off a balcony," Alec replied blandly.

Max blushed. "Shut up, you know I don't think about him like that."

Alec scowled. "Do I?"

"We've been over this," She hissed, starting to get pissed off. "It's _you_, Alec. Just you."

Alec sniffed, turning his back on her. "See that it stays that way."

Really, Max just didn't understand why Alec was actin' so paranoid. There was nothing to worry about it... But his words stuck with her, and then Max started getting scared that her talk with Logan really would turn into a doe-fest of soft accusations and gentle questions. And she couldn't take it. So instead of pushing the button to Logan's floor the following morning, she hit the one for Josh's instead. Alec was right. There was plenty of time to talk about the war later. And Josh would probably love a visit, stuck as he was in his rooms, only able to sneak out occasionally.

Josh's confused face as he peeked out the barely cracked door, flooding in happiness when he realized it was her, was more than worth Logan's inevitable annoyance at being blown off.

* * *

Alec threw open the door at the knock, hoping it was Max, hoping she'd changed her mind about the visit with Logan, or at the very least, hoping it was Sketchy, who still hadn't come through with that favor Alec'd asked of him.

It was just Cindy. Alec grunted, but left the door open, stalking back down the steps and towards the mini-bar. Hah. Pay for _this,_ Mr. Sophistication. He took a cookie from the fridge along with the scotch, unwrapping the former and handing it to Jaime, happily scribbling messily across some papers with some crayons Joshua had brought him.

"Figured I could watch Baby Boo while you n' Max talk to Logan," O.C. glanced around the apartment, wondering where Max had gone. And then watching Alec pour the scotch into a crystal tumbler, figured she knew.

O.C. sat next to him on the couch, watched him swirl the amber liquid in the glass moodily. She knew he was probably pissy that Max and Logan were having their little get together right now, but figured now, with Max gone, this was probably the best time to lay everything on the line. O.C. prided herself on being a straight-talker, on having Max's back, and she wanted to find out exactly what had changed between Max and Alec in the last three, almost four, years. She and Max hadn't really taken time to talk about it before… Really it was sad the way that they talked and talked and nothing got said. Part of O.C. wondered if the loneliness of the island had pushed the two transgenics together. Wondered how much heat had come into play where Jaime was involved. Wondered what would change between them now that they were back in society.

Unfortunately, O.C. failed to take into account those same three, almost four, years, and barreled in as if nothing had changed between them at all.

"You better not be messing with my girl." O.C.'s arms were folded across her chest.

Alec turned to look at her in amusement. Jaime's legs were kicking in the air as he reached for the red crayon. "What?" Alec asked, a small, bewildered smile creeping onto his face.

She arched one eyebrow at him. "You was always doggin' around. Don't think that just because you're back in civilization-"

Alec's shoulders tensed. "What did you just say to me?"

"Listen, Alec, Max is my girl and-"

"Let's get one thing straight," Alec interrupted her, frowning, pointing at her in annoyance with one finger, the rest still clasped tightly around his glass. "Max and I aren't something that just happened over night. And even if I did _used_ to mess around, how the hell is any of that your business? That was four years ago-"

"She might be your mate, but Max is my best friend." O.C. shot back. "And I don't want her hurt. I'm just looking out for my girl."

His face hardened. "Max is my _wife_. Jaime is my son. And maybe it was your job to look out for her four years ago. But it's not anymore. It's mine." He threw back the rest of the scotch, slamming the glass down onto the coffee table.

"Alec," O.C. insisted,

"I'm pretty tired," He said blandly. "I'd like for you to leave now."

O.C. stared at him, wondering how everything had gone so wrong, so fast. And in the face of Alec's darkness, O.C. couldn't help but wonder if she'd ever really known him at all. She frowned at him, at his expressionless face, before glancing at Jaime, who was watching her with wide-eyes. Cindy swallowed and retreated.

And as she slipped out the door, she wondered how she'd break it to Max that she'd essentially cornered her 'husband' and called him an unfaithful slut. But... her heart had been in the right place. She just wanted things to be like they were before... O.C. barely even noticed Logan as she shoved past him, her head still a bit spun. Logan glanced after her in confusion before coming up to Max's door, worry blooming in his chest when he noticed it was slightly ajar... before he realized Cindy must have left it open. The door swung open easily beneath his fingertips and it was only with a little bit of disappointment that he realized Max wasn't here, either.

Alec stared broodingly at the empty glass upon the table when he felt someone sit next to him. His instant annoyance, coupled with almost four years of developing his sense of smell, told him exactly who it was. He pretended like he didn't know that Logan was there.

"Hey, Alec."

Alec grunted, wondering if Cindy had left the door open on her way out. Well, another little thing to be pissed at her about, then.

"You seen Max?"

He glanced at Logan out of the corner of his eyes. "I thought she went to talk to you."

Logan frowned. "Yeah, but she never made it to my room."

Alec's eyes tightened. Maxie had failed to mention she'd be meeting him in the guy's frickin' _rooms_. He shrugged, pretending aloofness. He pushed himself away from the couch, unwilling to be that close to someone he did not trust, crossing the room to sit next to his son. Alec picked up a green crayon, and added a tail to the cat-bird-house thing that Jaime was drawing. "Sorry, man, don't know where she is."

Logan blinked in confusion. And then his eyes narrowed in annoyance. "Aren't you a little bit concerned?" He glanced over the scene of Alec unconcernedly drawing with his son, took in the bottle of scotch sitting on the coffee table, and his face twisted in disgust that he was unable to hide.

What the fuck was that expression about? It's not like Alec could get drunk and become negligent. Yeah right. That'd only happen in Logan's wildly fondest dreams; in which Mr. Hero could swoop in to save Max from Big Bad, Evil Alec. And sure, maybe Alec was little worried about Max, she had said she'd be meeting Mr. Hero, but that was none of Logan's business. What was it with people and their voyeurism; their need to know every detail of his and Max's private life? Why couldn't they see it was none of their damn business? Alec decided on simply saying, "Max is a big girl, she can take care of herself."

"Your mate is missing and you're sitting around drinking?" Logan didn't hide his disdain very well.

"Wife," Alec corrected. Jaime gestured impatiently for the green crayon and Alec handed it over with a distracted frown, muttering. "What's with everyone and the damn 'mate' thing?"

Logan ignored the 'wife' comment for now because he wasn't entirely sure how to take it. And he didn't entirely know if he could take the implications behind the word use. He glanced away, frowning, unable to watch Alec coloring with a son that, rightly, should not exist. "You know," Logan began softly. "A long time ago, I asked you to take care of her-"

"A long time ago, Max fed you a bullshit story to escape the responsibility of truly breaking it off with you." Alec countered.

Logan ignored him. "I guess, what I'm trying to say is, that statement still stands. Take care of-"

"What is it with you people?" Alec frowned, sitting up and twisting to stare at Logan. "You don't _own_ Max. She isn't something that you can just hand off to me from the graciousness of your heart. News flash, with or without your permission, Max-"

"Hey guys, what's up?" Max interrupted, glancing between the two men.

"Max," Logan said in relief, twisting around on the cushion to look at her over the back of the sofa. "I was worried about you." He very carefully did not glance back at Alec, which was good because Alec was making a mocking doe-eyed, kissy face behind his back.

"Ran into Joshua," She lied, looking away so she wouldn't snort at Alec's mimicry. She'd actually gone to Josh's room to avoid the meeting, but Logan didn't need to know that.

"He was in public?" Logan asked. Alec smirked, laying back down on the carpet.

"Had to get him back under wraps." Max said blithely, finally able to look back. "So, what are we talking about?"

Logan glanced at Alec. Alec exclaimed in wonder as Jaime proudly displayed his cat-maybe it was a bear-house thing that had a green tail and one large green eye and a red roof.

"Whatever," Max rolled her eyes when neither man was forthcoming. She crossed the room quickly, sinking next to Jaime, so she could get in on the parental pride thing that was always so much fun.

Logan watched them for a few moments, hurting and trying not to, before he finally stood, mumbled something about eating, and made to leave. He made it halfway down the hallway, when he'd be stopped by a tall, gangly man wearing a whole lot of sunscreen and some orange, floral swim trunks.

"Hey, Logan, my man!"

Logan waited patiently for Sketchy to jog down the hallway to him. The skinny reporter thrust a paper bag into Logan's hands.

"You look like you're on your way to see our good buddies, Max and Alec." Sketchy smiled, his tone conversational.

"Just on my way back from there… why?" Logan replied, only a hint of unease in his voice.

"Can you get that to them?" 'Calvin' gestured at the bag in Logan's hands. "You see, I promised them, but I got some other stuff to take care of." He shifted in his vibrant orange flip-flops, and Logan stifled the urge to roll his eyes.

"Yeah, sure, Sketchy."

"Sweet! Thanks man, I owe you one." Sketchy loped off, back in the direction of pool with all the scantily clad honeys. This was the greatest assignment ever. His good buddies Alec and Max were alive and well and he got to chill with half-nekkid women. What more could a guy ask for?

Logan shook his head and headed back towards Max's rooms. He'd shut the door gently behind him as he'd made his escape, so he had to stop and knock on the barrier to be let back into the surreal world of Max and Alec's life. He almost hoped that they wouldn't answer.

Max opened the door, her face scrunching in confusion. "Logan… Weren't you just here?"

"Listen, Max-"

"Hey, is that Sketch?" Alec leaned out of their bedroom door, the noise of the TV and Jaime's laughter following him out. The crayons were still discarded in the middle of the floor and the picture Jaime had been working on was nowhere to be seen. Alec's face descended in neutrality as he saw who was in the hallway. "Logan," He nodded. "Back so soon?"

What, did the man own no shirts? Logan looked back at Max. "Sketchy said-"

Alec's eyes zeroed in on the paper bag and he crossed the room with quick strides. He snatched the bag from Logan's grasp. "That's for me."

Logan's eyes narrowed. So did Max's.

"So… what's in the bag?" Logan asked conversationally.

"Yeah, what's in the bag, Alec?"

It could have been Alec's turn to narrow his eyes, but he resisted the urge. Why the hell was she lookin' at him like that for; like a little mini-Logan? He was almost tempted to show her, but her expression wasn't enough of a reason to reveal things like this in public-

"Now's not the best time for this, Max." He warned, speaking through clenced teeth, his face forced into a grin.

"What's in the bag, Alec?" Her voice hardened. They were back around their friends for a few days and he was already sneaking around with Sketchy, undoubtedly pulling scams?

He hadn't been going to say anything. Was going to keep it private. But the suspicion in her voice made his face harden. He reached slowly into the bag, his eyes never leaving Max's. His hand retracted, a small square of foil scissored between two fingers.

"Condoms." He said blandly, tossing the item in their general direction. It bounced off of Logan's shoe, but the man was too horrified to look down. Alec continued, almost evilly. "Lots and lots of condoms." Then he turned on his heel and walked out of the living room, slamming the door to their bedroom behind him. The sound of the TV turning up would overtake the overwhelming silence of the living room.

Logan glanced down at Max's red face.

"Ummm…"

"I gotta go," She squeaked, slamming the door in his face. Logan stared in surprise at the wooden barrier before blinking and walking slowly away, glancing back once or twice to ensure that she hadn't changed her mind and was coming after him.

"Open this door!" She jiggled the handle one more time.

"Piss off, princess!"

"You know I can break it down!" She shouted back. Jaime's laughter had died, and she could almost picture his confusion, but couldn't calm her voice.

"Yeah, well, I wouldn't doubt that you would."

She paused, to stare angrily at the door between her and her mate. "What is that supposed to mean?"

The lock clicked and suddenly he was leaning out the doorway, arm braced in the doorjamb. "That means I'm well aware that you have no respect for me."

"That's not fair!" She raged as he pushed past her. "You were being all secretive and Sketchy was involved and- You're dressed." She blinked at his clothed back. "Where the hell are you going?"

"If you're falling back into old habits, I think I will too. I watched Jaime while you were supposed to be pallin' around with Logan... in _his rooms_." He stopped to look at her, his voice a hiss, and she glanced away in guilt. She hadn't thought it was that big of a deal. She and Logan weren't like that... Seriously. Alec frowned at her before continuing. "Now you can watch Jaime for a few hours, while I pal around with_ my_ old friend, Whiskey Jack." He was halfway across the room when her shoe hit him right between the shoulder blades. "OW! Jesus, Max!"

"You are not spending all night in the bar!" She pulled off the other shoe, holding it aloft in warning.

"Why not?" He sneered. "Figured you and Logan could use the room for a party, since you two are all chummy again. Invite O.C. You can all bitch about me to your hearts' content." Alec ducked as the other boot went sailing over his head. "Watch it!"

"You have no right to talk that way about my friends!" She shouted.

"Your friends have no right to talk about me, Max!" He started advancing on her, but she held her ground, chin jutting stubbornly. "We've been in civilization for less than a week and you and Logan are already riding together on the suspicion bandwagon? I'm once again the bad guy, and I'm being told to mend my womanizing ways? Well, excuse me if-"

Max blinked in confusion. "Your womanizing ways?"

He laughed harshly. "Everyone's out to protect innocent little Max from hound dog Alec. Or did you not go over those details with your B.F.F's?"

Anger flared within Max, and she wasn't sure if it was directed at him, at her for failing to recognize how miserable he was, or at the outside world for worming its way into their relationship. Probably all three.

She crossed quickly to him, throwing her arms around, despite being well aware that he'd be too angry to want them. "I know it's tough right now, Alec… but don't… don't spend the night in the bar… Stay with me."

He glared at the top of her head, and wouldn't hold her. So she squeezed him tighter.

"I can't lose you, Alec." _You, you and Jaime. You're all I've got. _

He started, his brooding anger draining away at the implication of her statement. His smile was tight. "Well, I'm already losing you… to civilization. What do you propose we do about it?"

"Meet me in the middle?" She asked, looking up at him.

He sighed, his arms finally coming up to drape across his waist. "I'm not sure where that's at anymore, Max."

"So we'll make a new middle ground," She said stubbornly, her arms tightening around him.

He sighed. Wasn't simple as all that, in Alec's mind. How do you reconcile their world of so long ago with what they'd become on their island? Somethin's gotta give, and the last hour had been a struggle between the two lifestyles; their old days at Jam Pony and the island. And Max and Alec, caught bodily in that struggle, were descending into their own versions of neuroticism from years long past. If they went back to Seattle… would it only get worse?

* * *

It was only one short day 'til their feet would hit American soil, and Max couldn't wait to be off this frickin' boat. She almost wished she'd taken the plane, because she felt more trapped here, with people constantly in and out of her rooms, shoving into her life… Emotions aside, part of her still wanted to run away in sickness anytime someone that wasn't her husband or her child touched her. And the emotional aspect was so fricking messy...

Well… at least the boat hadn't blown up. Something to be thankful for, anyway. Even if she still kind of want to shriek and crawl in a hole anytime the boat lurched or swayed. And Alec wasn't doin' much better, blanching beneath his freckles every time the ship shuddered.

Max had just spied Jaime's shoes underneath the piano when she heard the knock. She grabbed them quickly, thinking Alec was coming back for them, Jaime guiltily in tow, and opened the door.

"Cindy," Max said in surprise, smug words dying in her throat. Then she nodded coolly. But didn't step away from the doorframe. _She knows,_ O.C. realized. _She knows what I said to Alec and she ain't happy._ And even more surprising, in O.C.'s mind, Max had taken Alec's side. Things really had changed between the two. More than O.C. could have ever possibly believed or imagined.

"Can I come in?"

Max shrugged, walking back to the couch and slumping into it, discarding Jaime's shoes on the coffee table.

"Listen, Max," O.C. sighed, shutting the door gently behind her. "The other day, when you were supposed to be meetin' with Logan… I knew the boy's head was spun, but I just wanted to make sure he'd do right by you and-"

"And you thought the best way of doing that would be by calling him a slut?" Max's voice was neutral as she pulled a magazine from a stack, flipping through its pages in disinterest.

"I guess I deserve that," O.C. frowned, coming down the steps and crossing round the couch to sit next to her friend. "But you haven't said two words to me 'bout you and him since you got back. How was I supposed to know what was goin' through your head?"

Then she fixed Max with a level stare. "And we both know, back in Seattle he was tomcattin' around with every girl that would have him and you'd have more than agreed with me for sayin' what I did."

Max couldn't help the small smile. But that didn't change anything. "You're forgetting something."

"What's that?"

"That was four frickin' years ago!" Max tossed the magazine back on the table. "Did you even consider coming to me first and askin' what was up before accusing him of anything?"

"I didn't accuse him of nothin'!" Cindy retaliated, almost guiltily. "I was just makin' sure he knew that all that time on an island didn't change the fact that I still got yo' back!"

Max didn't know whether to feel flattered or annoyed. Three, closer to four, really, years on an island didn't change the fact that O.C. was her best friend. But coming back to civilization didn't change the fact that Alec was her mate; was a best friend and more. She finally grunted in torn annoyance. "You don't know Alec like I do."

O.C. was well aware of that. In a sort of apology, she backed down, offering, "Hot Boy whipped?"

"Like no other." Max grinned, some of her tension draining away.

O.C. smirked. Leave it to her sister to tame the untamable. Then, like bygone days, she leaned forward conspiratorially, "You _know_ O.C. don't swing that way, but… He as good as everyone say he is?"

Max scowled at the reminder of her partner's active life after Manticore. "I wouldn't know." She frowned at O.C.'s knowing, slightly disbelieving, smirk. "I mean, I don't know how it'd be without…" She sighed, at a loss for words. Finally, she just said, "The whole 'mate' thing makes endorphins ramp up to atomic bomb levels during sex."

"You mean you can't tell if he's really that good or if it's just Miss Kitty inside of you saying he's that good?" O.C. questioned. Then she smirked, leaning back into the couch, looking at her nails. "Well, never say Manticore never gave you nothin'."

Max rolled her eyes, smiling slightly as she elbowed her friend gently.

O.C. glanced up, her voice softening. "Anythin' else a sister should be knowin' 'bout your time with Gilligan?"

"The food selection sucks?"

That made O.C. pause. "Really?"

"Let's just say I'll never eat another tropical fruit salad for as long as I live."

"Not like those are easy to come by anyway." O.C. frowned. Her voice once again softened. "I meant… about Jaime?"

Max looked at her friend in confusion. "What about him?"

O.C. sighed. "Jus' forget it. None of my business, anyhow."

Max's eyes glanced across her friend's troubled face. She sighed. After years of only reading Alec, you'd think it'd be harder to read other people. Mentally, Max agreed with O.C.; it was none of her damn business. What was it with people and- But Max shook her head, anxious to rekindle the friendship that an island had torn away, and she found herself saying, "Estrus bitch had nothing to do with our son."

"Well, good." O.C. said, working around her surprise. "'Cuz I'd hate to have to kill Alec for pressin' the advantage so soon after he was rescued."

"It was kind of the other way around." Max muttered.

"What was that?"

"Nothing." Max replied. And then after a moment, "You know what I need?"

"A haircut?" O.C. went back to her nails.

"I was gonna say you n' me should go get something to eat and really catch up…" Max frowned, pulling her long hair over her shoulder to peruse it. "Is it that bad?"

"Honey, does 'split ends' mean anything to you?"

* * *

"Honey, we're hooome," Alec smirked as he came in, Jaime on his shoulders, both pink from the strong winds of the deck. Alec was kind of proud of himself. He hadn't once felt like horking. He kicked the door shut behind him.

Then he stopped to stare at Max.

"You cut your hair," He accused.

"So?"

He frowned, setting Jaime back on the ground. He shrugged, his eyes moving over the shiny, conditioned tresses that hung just below her shoulders. "Looks good."

As soon as the boy's feet touched the ground, Jaime took off running, no doubt to see what else he could flush down the toilet before Mommy and Daddy figured out what was goin' on. Alec frowned at Max, moving down the steps, crossing the distance to lean against the couch's arm rest, taking in the new red top and faded jeans. "Those new clothes?"

"Me n' Cindy did some shopping too." Max flipped to the next page, wondering what people found so fascinating about gardening. Why couldn't they have put some motorcycle magazines in here or something? She glanced up at Alec, making a face. "She's grabbing some more stuff for you and Jaime right now. Said we should all have more than one outfit to live out of."

"We don't have any money yet." The way he'd placed emphasis on _yet_ worried Max, but then she remembered how O.C. had blown off her similar question, and similar emphasis, only an hour earlier.

"She said she'd charge it to the rooms." Max glanced away guiltily.

"Does Logan know he's clothing his rival?" Alec smirked, not caring much.

"Please," She rolled her eyes. "Like O.C. would listen to me." Or like Logan was even in the contending anymore. Max huffed in annoyance at his stare, turning back to the glossy mag, chewing on her thumbnail.

"Is that _nail polish_?"

She pulled her hand away from her mouth, tucking her fingers into a fist. "Maybe." God, what was with him? She glanced up from the magazine, turning to look at him. Took in his very carefully blank face. "What?"

"You're going out with Logan tonight, aren't you?"

Her mouth dropped open. "What?!"

"Well, have a good time." He walked past her, intent upon the bedroom. Max scowled. Typical Alec, running away. That was partly it, but it was also because he'd just heard the toilet flush and he wondered why.

"How can you just accuse me of getting pretty for another man and walk out of here?" She tossed the magazine back onto the table and stood to follow him.

He stopped, turning to face her. "Well, then why did you 'get pretty'?"

"Cuz I'm a girl!" She scowled. "And sometimes it's nice to feel like one."

He stared at her in incredulity. "Who are you and what've you done with Max?"

Max glanced away, muttering, "O.C. brings out weird sides of me."

"You can say that again." Alec tugged at one of her shorter locks, bemused.

"Would you stop that?"

"It's cute…" He defended himself. Another tug and she pulled away from him, swatting him lightly across the stomach. Right before she wrapped her arms around his neck, smiling up at him. "You could at least pretend like you're appreciative that I'm all girly."

He smirked at her, and then frowned, pulling away. "Okay, I know I just heard the toilet flush _again_."

They shared a glance. "_Jaime_."

Two hand towels, one remote, and six pounds of toilet paper later, the toilet stopped overflowing. One sulky toddler in bed for an early nap, and Alec realized that the silence was unnerving. On the island, it was never silent. There was always the birds and the monkeys, the wind in the trees, the waterfall over the rocks, the sea surging against the beach. The quiet echo within the enclosed space was haunting, and it had him crossing the room, flipping on the radio.

And then he had to stop and listen in wonder.

It was music, real music. It wasn't the hip-hop they'd prescribed to in their days of old, but something older, gentler. Something that Alec imagined Logan could listen to on a rainy day. Something that Simon Lehane might like. Alec shuddered. But personal taste aside, it fit his gentle mood… And it was more than just music. It was another mark of civilization, of something they hadn't had in years.

Max paused in the doorway, letting the notes stir something small within her. Alec glanced up at her.

"Dance with me, Max." His eyes were shining as he turned to face her, a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips.

She stared incredulously at him, before laughing in embarrassment. "What? Hell no!"

He crossed the small distance to her tense form. "Come on, just one dance."

"I said no, Alec." But he'd already pulled her in tight, taking her small hand in his. He swayed softly in time with the softer music.

"You're the one that likes being girly," He reminded in a murmur. Max didn't answer.

She felt… ethereal. Like this wasn't happening. Like it was something that should be constrained to the past, like they'd traveled back in time. People don't dance anymore…

But her head fell on to his shoulder, anyway. Her eyes fell shut as something warm and unnamable swelled within her. That completeness, that calmness, that only Alec could bring.

All too soon the music had ended. She looked up at him, her lips gently parting, and he looked back, solemn.

Someone cleared their throat uncomfortably. They turned, lazily, dreamily, to the source.

The world came crashing back and they reluctantly released each other. O.C. put down the shopping bags she'd been holding and backed away.

"I'll just let y'all…"

Max and Alec shared a glance. "No, it's fine, Cindy." Max assured her friend. The three of them went through the bags, pulling out the clothes that O.C. had procured for the family.

And O.C. was struck by- no, it was stupid… …But O.C. couldn't help but notice their pained attempts at inviting her into their lives, into their private sanctum, despite all they'd been through. Despite what she'd implied of Alec. What O.C. remembered of Max and Logan's relationship was of being shut out, of only hearing about its possibility after Max had broken out of Manticore, of never knowing any details past Max's unhappiness at their inability to touch. There was something older and wiser shining within Max now… within Alec, too. And that, combined with her guilt for her earlier accusations, was what had her attempting an apology when Max had grabbed the new outfits and left to play dress up with Jaime.

"Alec," She started softly.

He turned to look at her, a little bit of a question in his eyes. O.C. never used that tone on him.

She cleared her throat. "We all… We all thought you was dead."

He nodded.

"I'm not gonna go around pretendin' like I wasn't more tore up about Max bein' missin' than you…" Her voice lost some of its edge and she sighed. "But sometimes, O.C. felt bad for makin' it sound like she didn't care for yo' hot boy behind."

He began a half-hearted protest, but she silenced him with a wave of her hand.

"O.C. knows when she need to come correct, so don't even think about tryin' to interrupt, neither."

His face was the picture of innocence. "Wouldn't dream of it."

She gave him that look, the same one she always used to give him. The one that said, 'I _know_ you're up to no good.' He smiled blithely back.

And those reasons were also what had her protecting them after she'd bid them farewell and saw who was coming down the hall.

Cindy fixed him with a level stare, but Logan seemed mostly immune. He wasn't immune, however, to the fact that Cindy was blocking his path.

"Don't even think about it."

Logan looked questioningly at the woman. "What? I'm just going in to talk to-"

"They've had a long week and enough people been in and out of they rooms without throwing something as messy as you into the mix _a-gain_."

"Cindy-"

"Give them some time, Logan." O.C. insisted. "They'll talk when they're ready. We'll be back in Seattle soon and you can talk 'bout the war to yo' little cyberjournelin' hearts content."

"It's been a week, Cindy." Logan said softly. "What do we know about them? _Nothing_. They haven't told us anything about what happened to them. Hell, they haven't even asked us about what's changed in the outside world. They don't know about the war, the Familiars, White, Sandeman… They haven't even asked us about anything personal. Does Max even know that you don't live in Seattle anymore?"

"They're not ready," Cindy insisted. "They been livin' on an island for almost four years. Did you think they'd be the same? That they'd just… jump into society? 'Cuz I did, and I'm a fool for thinkin' it, too. I hope 'cuz you so much smarter than everyone else you weren't as dumb as me, believin' that they'd be completely normal after all this time."

"Cindy-"

"There's time enough for catchin' up later, Logan. Let them get used to the world before you ask them to save it."

Logan frowned as she walked away. He wanted Cindy to be wrong. But could any human isolated for so long be expected to return to normal conditions immediately? Probably not, but he was just as guilty as Cindy for hoping… He sighed, and turned, going back the way he'd come. O.C. was right, and part of him was glad she'd bullied her way into coming along on this trip when he'd told her there was a chance Max was still alive, glad that she was here to tell him what he didn't really want to see. Max… Max and Alec… needed some time. A few more days wouldn't hurt anything.

* * *

A few hundred yards away, in the safety of the room, Alec was watching Max, his eyes soft. And his words came so completely far from left field, she had to stop and blink at him for a moment in confusion.

"How about… how about we say 'to hell with it all', Max. Let's not even go back to Seattle. We could go anywhere in the U.S…"

"Logan said there's still a war going on, Alec…" Her voice was soft as she folded the clothes she'd been trying on her son and setting them to the side. "We need to be there."

"That's exactly my point." He frowned, struggling to voice the concerns that'd been plaguing him for almost a week. "There's a war going on. We can't take Jaime into that kind of situation."

"I'm not happy about it either." She frowned, placing the last of the clothes into the pile before turning and looking at her husband. "But it's my responsibility-"

"That's not _you_ talking, Max." He groaned in exasperation, pushing himself away from the doorframe. "That's not my wife. That's not Jaime's mother." He leaned into her, driving his point home. "That's Logan."

"Well, we can't all be carefree sociopaths like you, Alec." She snapped. He froze, inches from her face, and her eyes widened in horror.

"Alec-"

"Save it." He stepped away from her, moving out of the bedroom.

"Alec, it just slipped out. I didn't mean it." She insisted, following him out.

He turned hard eyes on her. "Then you shouldn't have said it." He turned his back on her, headed towards the master bedroom.

"What happened to finding middle ground?" She shouted at him.

"You tell me!" The bedroom door slammed shut behind him.

Max slumped to the couch and buried her face into her hands. This wasn't her. It wasn't them. How could they escalate into yelling so quickly? Part of her knew why. The last week had just been so… overwhelming. She loved Alec. She was a little pissed at him right now, sure, but that didn't change the fact that she loved him.

Why did she have to open her stupid mouth? And why did he have to open his? And why-

"Do you love me?"

She hadn't even heard him come back in.

She looked up at him, her face etched in pain. "You know I do."

"Do I?"

"I didn't mean it, Alec." She insisted. "You know I don't think of you like that-"

"And yet you said it anyway."

"It's… it's this place… being around all these people… I feel…" Her head fell back into her hands, admitting in misery, "I feel like I'm drowning."

She'd find no sympathy from him. "And what do you think it'll be like when we get back to Seattle, huh?" His voice was hard; every bit as hard as his expression. "You think we'll revert to our lovey-dovey tropical island ways? Or do you think it'll get worse once you turn back into Logan's lapdog; uber-bitch extraordinaire."

Her head snapped up. "What did you-"

"It's a legitimate concern, and you know it! I'm not taking my kid back to Seattle so he can watch us fight like we did three years ago. Like we're fighting right now, for chrissakes. I'm not taking him there so he can watch his mother die on some ridiculous Eyes Only mission." He leaned back into his heels, his pose relaxing, his expression softening. "I'll follow you; you know I will, because I love you. But I won't let it be like it was before. I won't stick around for that, and I won't leave Jaime alone in that kind of situation."

She paled at his implications. Not only that he'd leave her. But that he'd take their son with him. "How can you look me in the eye and say something like that."

"Something's gotta give, Max. And if you won't give Logan up because I'm asking you, then I gotta think of some other way to make you do it. I won't stand by and let you risk yourself on one of Logan's noble Daring-Do's. I won't let me and Jaime take back seat to Eyes Only. And I won't let you kill yourself because you suffer from the mistaken belief that you're responsible for every transgenic on Earth."

"I let them out." She insisted.

"And most of them are probably grateful to you for it by now. But that doesn't give you the capability to lead a war, Max. Hell, even Dalton is probably better equipped to lead T.C. than you are, and he just got himself chewed up by a panther. You broke out of Manticore when you were, what, ten?"

She didn't say anything, just glared at him. He sighed, shoving a hand roughly through his hair. "Just forget it." He pushed away from the wall, moving back to the bedroom. Had it really been only over a week ago that she hadn't wanted to leave the island and he'd been desperate to go?

Max sighed in misery. Why was everything always so complicated?

"For the record," She scowled at his back. "I already planned on telling Logan if he asked that there'd be no more Eyes Only missions. Ever." He froze. "You think I'd risk myself like that when I have Jaime to think of? As for the other bit, I don't want to lead anybody. I never have. But it doesn't matter where we'll go, we'll be a target to the Familiars, thanks to some kooky old man that thought a mystical guidebook to doomsday was better than junk DNA. At least in Seattle there'll be safety in numbers."

He covered his shock, turning back to fix her with a knowing stare. "Yeah, but I know you, Max. It won't be enough that we'll be living there. You'll start feeling all responsible, like you always do, and try to take up the reins of leadership again. Then Logan will ask you for one tiiiny favor, just one time, and you'll give in, cuz you figure you owe it to him. Then one tiiiny favor will turn into two, which will turn into three, and before you know you'll be helping him out all the time again and then I'll be dragged into it and it'll only be a matter of time before one or both of us get shot, although in all likelihood it'll be me-"

"Okay, okay, diarrhea mouth," Max muttered. "I see your point."

"This is a mistake, Max. Going to Seattle is a mistake, and you know it."

"I _have_ to." She whispered.

He sighed, his green gold eyes suddenly very, very tired. "Yeah, well… the funny thing about life is that you don't _have_ to do anything."

She didn't have an answer to that, but he knew she wouldn't change her mind. She sighed, crossing to him, looking up at him. "Hey," she said softly.

He didn't 'hey back' but she continued anyway. "Little steps, okay?" She prodded gently.

He grunted, leaning against the doorway, looking away from her.

"Let's start with no more yelling in front of Jaime, okay?"

Another grunt.

The TV was still blaring in the other room, where Jaime was surrounded by a mountain of cookie crumbs; all proof that, yes, he was Alec's son.

"Wanna watch some TV?" She asked gently. His eyes flicked over her face and she caught the beginning of a smile before he could squash it.

He finally just grinned. "Oh, TV, the last, great wasteland… You really do know my weaknesses, huh?"

She made a face, "Some of 'em."

He picked her up easily, throwing her over his shoulder as he made his way back to Jaime's room, ignoring her struggles and her shouts for him to _put her down!_ "Don't worry, baby." He swatted her ass when she made an awkward attempt at kicking him. "You n' Jaime… You'll always be the greatest weaknesses I got."


	14. Chapter 14: Overload

A/N: Seamagik-ism of the day: I can only please one person a day. And that one person… is Nic. Every day. Sorry. All you other people, well… Yeah. Sorry.

I will say one thing, 'cuz I've already caught a comment about this, and usually I take 'em to heart, but I just can't justify changing this chapter... In my mind, there's a difference between rushing and making something realistic. I'm dumping them in a new situation, I'm not going to NOT tell them what's going on. Author's perogative, baby.

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Chapter 14: Overload

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It was a warm May day when the ship powered into the polluted waters off the coast of California. The warmth kept on climbing and went right on into sweltering well before they'd even hit the grungy docks of smog-filled Los Angeles.

She watched the city grow closer from her balcony, watched the future loom larger. The cruiseliner slowed to a crawl as it prepared to be pulled and maneuvered into the docks and Max finally slipped back inside, sliding the glass door gently shut behind her.

"We still alive?" Alec grunted as she came in, lounging on the pristine white of the couch. "Did your fabulous psychic stare ward off all evil doers?"

"Shuddup." Max tossed her hair. "That's not why I was out there,"

He glanced away in mock innocence. "Yeah, whatever you say, sweetheart."

Max scowled at him. And said, after a pause, "You packed our stuff yet?" Probably not, he'd been lazing around on the couch for the better part of the morning, proof he was every bit as nervous about being back as she was.

"I'm getting around to it," He hedged, shifting in discomfort.

"We got less then an hour," Max reminded.

A slow, crooked grin warmed the depths of her body, and sent a thrill down her spine. His voice was deep, playful, "Well, in that case, maybe we should-"

"Momma, I wants cookie!"

Max's head snapped to her son, who was currently in the process of staring up, annoyed, at the shut door of the mini-fridge, high up enough on the counter to be protected from his little cookie-questing fingertips.

"Y'know," Alec said after a moment. "He's gonna look back on his childhood and need therapy for all the innuendos and stuff he's stumbled in on."

"Like he'll even remember this when he's older," Max huffed and crossed the room quickly, lifting her son… away from the glorious contents of the fridge. "Besides," She pointed out, "Who's the one who keeps making all those innuendos in the first place?"

"Want cookie!" Jaime squirmed in her arms.

"You make it so easy," Alec shrugged. And he finished, only half-jokingly… "So, should we put Jaime down for a nap or what?"

"No cookie," Max said firmly to her son and she glanced at Alec and he guess that went double for him. Both men, and she used that term loosely, huffed in annoyance. Max rolled her eyes and glanced down at her son, still pouting in annoyance. "Jaime, why don't you help daddy pack?" She asked with a smile.

"Pack what?" Alec asked lazily from his spot on the couch, leaning back once more, jean clad legs splaying wide. "Our three sets of clothes apiece or one of the millions of matching outfits you bought my son in an attempt to sissify him?"

"Alec," She warned.

"Yeah, yeah, I'm goin'." He pushed himself off of the couch grumpily, headed back to the bedroom.

Max and Alec gathered their admittedly sparse belongings slowly; just a few clothes, a few more clothes for Jaime, two small island souvenirs that they'd yet to show anyone else, and a handful of loose leaf papers covered in the whimsical, child scrawls of their son going crazy with his crayons. Souvenirs were tucked gently in the corner, clothes precisely folded ("Jeez, Alec, it's not like they're not just gonna come right out anyway.") and the pictures placed gently on top of the clothes under Jaime's careful supervision, smoothed out, and eventually zipped over.

"You ready for this?" Max asked, staring at the ceiling as the three lay sprawled on the orthopedic mattress that Max was so going to buy/steal/whatever once they hit Seattle.

"No," But his head turned and he smiled ruefully over top of Jaime's head. Max smiled back, because neither was she.

"What do you think it'll be like?" Max turned to watch the ceiling once more, her eyes going distant as she tried to imagine Seattle, T.C., everybody they'd once known.

"Dunno," Alec said after a moment. "Part of me wants it to be the same…" He shrugged, "But the rest of me knows…" He trailed off and Max nodded in understanding. 'Cuz she knew it too; knew that it could never be the same. All they could hope was that it wasn't _too_ different; that they weren't being propelled into a world even more foreign then their island had once been.

The knock from the suite's front door startled them from their lazy musings. Cindy's raised voice from the hallway made them sit up. "Y'all ready?"

Alec grimaced as Max stood.

"Ready as we'll ever be," He heard her mutter as she crossed into the living room and he gathered up their son and their belongings.

Cindy was waiting fairly impatiently in the hallway. Or at least, Max figured it was impatience that kept her friend shifting from one foot to the other. "Where's Joshua?" Max asked, glancing around, in an attempt at conversation.

"You know how he feel about having to hide his face," Cindy frowned, forcing her nervous moments to cease. "Doggy Dog already gone."

"Logan already take off?" Alec asked in a very, very neutral tone as he stepped into the hallway, dropped the duffel, and pulled the door shut with his Jaime-free arm. Max quirked an eyebrow at his question. So did Cindy.

"Nah, he waitin' on the main level," Cindy looked away, controlling the smile when Alec rolled his eyes. "He got all y'alls passports and stuff."

"Passports?" Max asked in confusion, as they made their way down the hallway "How'd he get pictures of us-"

"We just usin' copies of the same ones y'all used last time you was on a boat." Cindy shrugged, pressing the elevator's call button.

The ride in the elevator was a silent one. Alec nodded to Logan as they stepped from the small compartment, Max shot him a quicksilver smile, and Jaime happily ignored him. The walk down the ramp was equally silent, Max and Alec just touching shoulders as they made their way down the large gangway. Apparently those in first-class and the penthouses were let off before everyone else… Thank goodness. There were only a very few well-dressed passengers milling around, waiting to be let through Customs and onto U.S. soil.

The Pulse had destroyed more than just checking account numbers and stock portfolios; with the government suddenly broke, and beyond indebted to nations like Russia and China, many a government agency had fallen by the wayside. U.S. Customs… was not one of those agencies. It was still goin' strong, thanks in part to the government's attempts to forestall some of the illegal smuggling that kept on thriving despite their best efforts. Also because, with the Pulse, losing Superpower status and what not, most government officials had been gripped with the blinding fever of xenophobia, and so refused to cut funding, thereby sparing many a sadistic, bored Customs official from the unemployment line.

The customs worker looked between them in confusion after Logan had handed off their documents. Then at Jaime. Then back at them.

"Randy and Carrie Travis?"

Max blushed scarlet and snatched the passports from the counter. It took her a moment to realize that their passports said nothing about the pretended sibling relationship they'd used as a cover all those years ago and that the woman was merely waiting for their son's information… and sighed in relief when she realized that the good old U.S. of A was as sleazy as ever. A fifty dollar bill passed underneath the bulletproof glass, through the little half-moon opening, and nothing was said about the lack of documentation for their two and a half year old.

"Did you bring any fruits or vegetables with you?" The women asked in a bored tone as she pocketed the fifty that Logan had slid to her.

"No." Max answered honestly.

"Any weapons, including, but not limited to; machine guns, sawed off shotguns, small firearms, and/or knives?"

Dang, the government sure was getting upfront about these things.

"Lady, we barely have any luggage!" Alec interjected.

She repeated, like she hadn't heard him, "Any weapons, including, but not-"

"No." Alec scowled. Max shot him a look, 'cuz really, he should have known better.

"Any illegal drugs, drug paraphernalia, or Cuban cigars?"

Max and Alec exchanged an incredulous glance before Alec turned back to her once more and sighed. "No." Even if he did, Alec had a feeling that a little bit more money would have fixed it for 'em anyway.

"Can you hurry it up, please?" Logan leaned in front of Alec, unmindful of the younger man's face, twisting in annoyance. "We have a plane to catch."

The woman gestured impatiently for their passports, which Max grudgingly handed back, and stamped them both, apparently wanting them as much out of her hair as they wanted to be out.

"Anything I should know about before we hit Seattle?" Max asked quietly as she followed behind Alec and Jaime, pushing their way though the security checkpoint.

"We can talk about it later." Logan huffed behind her, focused upon awkwardly maneuvering his suitcase through the shiny turnstile. The guard watched, smirking slightly below his government issued black cap.

Max opened her mouth to tell him that no, now was a good time, when Sketchy jogged up, only barely put together, wheeling an overloaded suitcase behind him. Alec turned and winced, catching sight of the garish Hawaiian shirt. Man, he thought he'd taught Sketch better.

"Man," Calvin "Sketchy" Theodore slowed to a halt, flipping his sunglasses down from the top of his head and onto his red, peeling nose. "I totally overslept this morning." He smiled winningly at the dumpy, apathetic government official behind the counter and she arched one thin eyebrow, unimpressed.

Well. At least some things never change.

"Hey, anybody seen Dalton?" Cindy was glancing around. She finally sighed, catching no sign of the teens. "Guess they ain't been released from they cattle cars, yet."

Max frowned, turning to look back at the ship, and, as if on cue, people began to spill forth from the thrown open, multi-storied doors, down the oversized gangway… And Max ignored the wince at the mass of humanity she'd soon be surrounded by. Guess they'd released the lower levels for debarking; this cruise had seemed far more crowded than the previous one. Maybe the economy was lookin' up... Or maybe Max's idea of 'crowded' had just gotten a lot, lot smaller. Social claustrophobia not withstanding, her eyes couldn't pick out the kid or his partner in crime within the crowd exiting the ship. She sighed. For transgenics and high-powered journalists and kickass females… they sure weren't very put together.

Sketchy answered all the woman's rote, rehearsed questions and got waved through the checkpoint. He followed Max's gaze back into the crowds milling on the dock, on the other side of the counters, waiting to be let onto 'official' U.S. soil, before he shrugged and sauntered over to Alec.

"So I guess this is it then." Sketch grinned loosely at Alec, releasing the handle of his overburdened suitcase and offering his hand to his friend.

"You not coming with us?" Alec frowned down at the offering, purposely stalling Sketchy's departure.

"Back to New York for me." Sketchy shrugged, hand still extended. "Deadlines n' all."

Alec's eyes narrowed only slightly. And got straight to the point. After all, this was the last chance he'd get. "Listen, man. Before you go... we really need to talk."

Sketchy sighed in that typical, put upon fashion of his, his hand lowering slowly, proof that he knew what was coming and that he wasn't a complete idiot. Really, Sketch was amazed that Alec had held off for this long. "C'mon, Alec, I didn't exactly volunteer for this assignment, okay?" He paused at Alec's look and he admitted, "I mean, yeah, I was stoked that maybe I'd get to see you guys again… but c'mon, my editor is a hard man and he overheard me on the phone with Cindy and it didn't take him long to figure out that my missing friends from my old days at Jam Pony were actually-"

Alec only _slightly_ tuned him out as Sketchy nattered on with his excuses. Probably hadn't taken long the man's editor very long, 'cuz if Alec knew Sketchy the gangly man had broken under the pressure of his boss's stare and admited everything and all it's gory details in a frenzied rush.

"Take a breath. And explain something to me." Alec interrupted flatly when he realized Sketchy wasn't planning on stopping for air anytime soon. The man paused mid-sentence and looked questioningly at him. Alec frowned, his face hard. "Why is a big newspaper like the New York Post interested in the whereabouts of Max?"

Sketchy's mouth opened, and snapped back shut. His head cocked to the side and his brow furrowed, and he said in confusion. "We're at _war_, man. She was the face of the Transgenic Nation 'fore she dropped off the face of the earth. Why do you think he's all over this story?" He could have left it at that, but his face became thoughtful and he continued on. "Plus, the New York Times just got another editor with a Pulitzer and he's got a serious boner to show them up anyway he can. Surprised he didn't send anyone with me, to make sure I-"

"War?" Alec interrupted, his blood going cold. His stomach clenched as he glanced towards Max and Jaime, still standing with Cindy and Logan. He turned back to Sketchy, his face hard. "What do you mean, _war_?"

Sketchy frowned, pausing in confusion. "Wait, you mean Logan seriously hasn't told you this stuff yet?"

Alec relaxed only slightly. No, he hadn't told them, and maybe that was partly their own fault for avoiding him. But it was something Alec was going to fix first chance he got. Going back to Seattle... if he had to go back, he didn't want to go in blind. He needed answers, and figuring it all out on his own wasn't nearly as efficient as being briefed by someone already knee-deep in the situation. Which is where Logan would come in handy. Later. For now, though-

"Listen, Sketchy, if you're really our friend, you won't write whatever story your toked little brain is cooking up."

Sketchy's face fell as his loyalties from his past battled those of his present. "Alec, we're talking about my _job_, man."

"Do you really wanna be responsible for White showing up on our doorstep with his goon squad?" Alec demanded. Then frowned at Sketchy's look. Oh no. Here it comes. "Now what?"

"Dude. Ames White is dead."

Alec's face hardened, covering his surprise. Oh, yes. He was definitely sitting Logan down and giving him a good grilling.

Sketchy sighed and ran a hand through highlighted hair. "Alec, you're one of my buddies… and Max… it used to be her part-time job to pull me out of trouble before you came along..." Alec nodded in agreement, like Sketchy had just won his argument for him, and the taller man finally slumped. "I'll hold off on the story as long as I can. But trust me when I say if it's not me, it's going to be someone else." His voice became entreating, almost whiny. "At least I'll cover up some of the details. And I'll keep everything real general. I promise. Short as possible. A blurb."

Alec rolled his shoulders. From what Sketchy had hinted about his boss, he didn't think a blurb would be quite enough. "Look, just…" He sighed, wondering if he should even waste the breath. "Just hold off for as long as possible. Give us a chance to figure everything out."

"Dude, I hope you know what you're asking of me," Sketchy's shoulders slumped in misery once more.

"I hope you do, too." Alec's eyes were hard. This wasn't just some story. This was their lives.

"Any other last requests?" Alec rolled his eyes at Sketchy's despondent tone. "'Cuz my boss is going to kill me when I get back."

"Could always come with us back to Seattle," Alec shrugged, pretending like he didn't have an ulterior motive; wanting someone he knew, trusted, someone that hadn't much changed, at his back.

"And do what?" Sketchy demanded. "Work at Jam Pony again? Hope that Weekly World News takes me back after I told 'em to shove it 'cuz I was moving to New York?"

"Good point." Alec nodded.

"So, you still slumming it in illegal housing?" Max grinned at Cindy, her eyes focused upon Alec's tense body as he jogged over to them. "'Cuz I'm thinkin' we might be needing a place to crash."

Cindy shifted uncomfortably, exchanging a glance with Logan. "Listen, Max-"

"Sketchy's getting ready to take off," Alec swooped down and lifted Jaime. "Going to say bye?"

"Yeah, just a sec." She turned to Cindy. "You were saying?"

Cindy sighed, rolling her eyes. Didn't that just figure. "Go say bye to that fool 'fore he start blubbering. Cindy will be tellin' you later."

Dalton and Zasz chose that moment to break through the crowd, ducking around people, breaking through groups, like it was some kind of game or something. Max rolled her eyes at their antics before she walked towards the man that'd once been, if not one of her closest friends, at least one of the most memorable.

She pulled away from the smothering hug fairly quickly, frowning up at him. "Listen, Sketch-"

Sketchy rolled his eyes. "Yeah, yeah. Alec already busted my chops. No story until you guys get everything figured out. I'll try." Max glanced in surprise at Alec, who shrugged. What did she expect?

"Little man," Sketch turned to Jaime, still held in Alec's arms, ignoring Max's eye roll. "Good to meet'cha. You know how to bump fists?" Jaime stared in confusion at Sketchy's extended fist, before the man helped the boy make his own fist, tapping it lightly with his own.

Logan shook his head, smiling lightly. Cindy shook her head, her mouth twisting. Logan turned to look at her as Dalton slipped through the turnstile, avoiding all questions by simply flashing his military badge. Zasz sauntered through only moments later, chest puffed out, his eyes flicking disdainfully over the checkpoint guard who was now paying them close attention.

"So..." Logan frowned at her, "So much for telling Max about Seattle,"

"I'm gettin' around to it," Cindy frowned at him, eyes narrowing.

Alec closed the door of the taxi, tapping the glass, one final farewell to the tall, sunburned man inside. Max and Alec watched in silence as the taxi pulled away.

"You have the feeling that we're about to find out that the whole world is radically different?" Alec mused aloud. Max glanced at him, shooting him a small, strained smile. They turned as one to look at Cindy and Logan, talking to Dalton and Zasz, still near the Customs booth.

"You have the feeling that they haven't told us everything?" Max asked.

Alec smirked. "Baby, that's a given." Jaime grasped his leg, frowning slightly, his face burying into his father's jeans as he wondered why it was so _loud_ here, and smelly, like fish, not like home, and why it was all so terribly, terribly _boring_.

"Guess it is partly our fault," Max admitted softly, as the other group started walking towards them.

"Yeah, maybe," Alec frowned. "But some of the stuff they could have told us about anyway, whether we wanted to hear it or not…" He turned to look at her, his hand grazing the top of his son's head absentmindedly. "Did you know that Ames White is dead?"

Max's mouth dropped open. "What?!"

His eyes darted towards her. "Yeah, that's kinda how I felt when Sketch just told me."

"Just told you what?" Logan asked as the other little party made it to them.

"We can talk about it later," Max replied, deadpan, in almost the exact same tone Logan had used on her only minutes ago. His mouth twisted a bit, maybe in annoyance, maybe in mirth, but for now, Logan let it go. Max did too. Yes, she wanted answers, but on a dock, surrounded by civilians, maybe wasn't the best time for this.

"Well, this is it," Logan shrugged, expensive blue shirt moving over lean shoulders. "Quick trip to the airfield and we'll all be in Seattle before you know it."

They took separate taxis to the airfield. Jaime was annoyed at being seated between his Mom and Dad, kept trying to squirm free of the lap belt and crawl over his Dad to get a good look at the scenery whizzing by. Taxi drivers hadn't changed much, Max noted, not with relief, as they turned a corner practically on two wheels and Jaime shrieked in happiness. At least _someone_ was having a good time.

The airfield that they followed the other, larger taxi to was not the same one they'd been dropped off at on that fated trip so many years ago. That trip had been about secrecy, about hiding from White, and the airfield they'd landed at had reflected that; small, overgrown, at the far outskirts of the city, cracks in the old cement. Made for a quick, quiet, not totally legal drop.

This airfield was a _real_ airfield. More than one runway. Blinking lights. Small charter jets lining up to take off. A little terminal, off in the distance. Private, powerful money worked behind the scenes here, and, again, Max wondered what had happened to Logan.

Alec whistled, long and low, as the car slowed to a stop behind the first taxi. He shook his head. "Guess that answers that question."

"What?" Max asked, brow furrowing.

"See for yourself," Alec shrugged, unbuckling himself and his son. Max did the same, stepping from the car. She turned, looking over the top of the taxi, at Josh, waiting patiently for them near a small, white plane.

On the side of the small, personal jet, so clearly; _Cale Enterprises_.

"Okay," Max shook her head, "Now I'm just starting to get pissed off," Alec arched an eyebrow at her in amusement, keeping a tight hand on his son's shoulder.

Alec let Logan deal with paying and tipping the driver. Obviously he could afford it.

"Guess you really missed the boat on this one," Alec murmured behind her, climbing up the rollaway steps, into the aircraft. "You coulda married a billionaire,"

"Don't start with me, Alec," She warned, making her way as far to the back as she could, sinking into one of the plush leather chairs. Alec lifted Jaime into the seat next to her. The seats were in two's, and one of 'em had to sit next to Jaime, and it wasn't gonna be him 'cuz that would leave the seat next to Max empty, leaving room for- anyway, Jaime was happy to sit next to his Mom, kicking his feet. Everything was so strange, so different, to the little boy, and trying to keep up was beginning to make him a little bit tired.

Alec sank into one of the seats across the aisle, marveled at the leg room, and, like his son, promptly fell asleep. Max shook her head in amusement. Her brain was wired with questions. She couldn't be _paid_ at this point to sleep.

The plane had been in the air for a little over an hour when Max finally unbuckled her seatbelt unable to stand it any longer. She slipped past Jaime, face still slack, slightly pouty, in sleep. Alec didn't stir as she passed him, but she knew without a doubt his eyes opened as she walked up the aisle; she could practically feel his gaze burning across her back as she slipped into the seat next to Logan.

The older man put down the newspaper, removed the silver-rimmed glasses, and turned to look at her, waiting patiently.

"Ames White." She said simply, quietly. "Dead. How?"

Josh, across the aisle, looked up from the chicken dinner he'd been working on.

"A small war broke out after you left," Logan started slowly.

"I figured it'd be too much to hope that would be sorted out before I got back," She interrupted, muttering darkly.

His laugh was soft, and not at all humorous. "Not between transgenics and familiars…. It was a war within the Conclave, familiar versus familiar."

"What?" She demanded, surprised.

Logan shook his head. "This... isn't going to be simple to explain. You sure you want to hear it all now?"

"You just told me a war was goin' on." Her face twisted in incredulity. "Only an idiot would want to walk into that kind of situation blind. So yeah, I wanna know. What happened?"

Logan sighed. "Remember our good friend Ames White?"

"Whole reason for this conversation," She reminded.

"Apparently after you left, there was some kind of rift between him and the Conclave. Something went down the day your boat exploded, something either White, or the Conclave, wasn't happy about." Logan sighed, stretched his legs in his gray designer slacks. He relaxed back into the chair, shaking his head only slightly. "The Conclave tried to gently retire him and then when he wouldn't go, just tried to kill him instead. He repayed them by leading a faction of familiars against the uppers..."

Transgenics, well-noted for their intelligence, are just as capable of brain-dead, word-killing shock as the rest of the world. "You're shitting me," She said, her eyes wide.

Logan looked away, his mouth twisting. "When the Conclave tried to kill White, there was a small uprising. Apparently White had more support than they realized. Kind of like the old powers-that-be against the newer, more pedantic breed of cult members."

"Ames White?" Max questioned. "Pedantic? Logan, that guy was a fanatic on a good day."

"Yes, White was insane." Logan nodded. "Yes, White killed his wife. But White also kept letting you live in the hopes of regaining his son," Logan pointed out. "Not something any of the truest of believers would have done. And apparently, he wasn't the only one that was chafing under the rule of the Conclave. Feelings in the face of our modern culture were starting to run high; the beliefs that'd been passed down from generation to generation were getting diluted within the lower echelons, not like the higher ups that lived and breathed the word of the Cult. Those less powerful members weren't accepting the deaths of their first two sons as easily as they used too. Weren't always going with a carefree heart to kill their human wives after the acceptance of the third child into their schools." Logan shook his head. "And honestly, even sometimes the third child failed the administration of the snake venom, and men were faced with three dead children, one dead wife, and nothing to show for it but a whole lot of nothing."

"You say that like they have feelings or something," Max scoffed.

"Everyone has feelings, Max." Logan sighed.

"Not them." She argued.

"Anyway," Logan continued, "White came to represent the more modern, if still obviously insane, nature of snake worship. In his 'plan', maybe some humans would get to live; as chattel obviously, slaves, but still alive. What's the point of being supreme if you have nothing to rule over?" Logan shook his head, laughed ruefully, well aware of how sick it all was. "Transgenics, of course, would not be so lucky. And he was charismatic enough to add to the followers he already had. Some of the familiars liked him because of his slightly more relaxed views on family. Some familiars liked him because he promised a new world, a world that the Conclave was slow in delivering. Some followed him just because he talked a good game. Guy practically became a cult leader in and of himself."

They fell into silence, as Max digested it all. "How do you know all this stuff?" She finally asked, after a long pause.

"We had some people on the inside," Logan said quietly, not proud to admit it.

"What?!" Max demanded.

"Some transgenics volunteered to receive the Caduceus, the mark of the Cult." Logan admitted. "And the fragmented nature of the Cult made it easy for them to slip into ranks. Plus it helped that only the Conclave knew the identities of all its members. With communications broken down, familiar fighting familiar, Conclave members scattered across the world, leading the True Faction against White… Well... Some transgenics are used to taking on roles anyway, and it wasn't easy, and I'm not saying we didn't lose some people, but it wasn't as hard as it should have been either."

"What?" Max demanded. "Are you _kidding_ me?! You sent my people into the heart of the enemy?"

"No," Logan shook his head. "They volunteered. Sandeman asked, and they volunteered."

Max's brain quit functioning. It… it was all just too much… She stood, looked back at Alec, watching her, not even pretending that he wasn't listening to every word that had passed between them. Dalton and Zasz, Josh, and Cindy, they were all listening in the confines of the small plane, solemn and grim-faced.

"How did he die?" She asked softly, still standing in the aisle, knowing she shouldn't feel even the least bit of remorse for a man so sick. She glanced back at Jaime, shifting in sleep, and for a moment-

"His father…" Logan shook his head. "It came down to it, and Sandeman shot him. Twice."

Max stared at Logan for a long moment, unblinking, before moving back up the aisle. Jaime was still sleeping, curled into the leather of his seat, completely unaware of the conversation that had flipped Max's world view on it's axis. She sank into the seat next to Alec, shoved open the shade, and peered out the window at a blue, blue sky that her eyes couldn't see.

"Hey," He asked gently. "You okay?"

She looked back at him. Looked at her son, asleep across the aisle.

"I want to go home," She said.

Alec smiled, a bit hard, and his arm came up around her shoulders and she ducked underneath to lean into him. He didn't say anything, just pressed his mouth against her sun-kissed hair.

Zasz, watching, turned back to Dalton and made a kissy face, but his friend just popped him on the arm. Logan glanced back, just for a moment, and was forced to turn away from their solidarity. He slipped his glasses back on, turned back to the newspaper, and told himself that life goes on. Even when it hurts.

Jaime woke up shortly afterwards, and the rest of the flight was all about keeping him entertained. Josh even tried, coming back to sit next to the hyperactive child. Josh had a way with kids, 'cuz Jaime finally settled down and listened to the tall, strange man and his stories of Seattle, of the place they were going.

Not home. Max was leaning into Alec once more, as she listened to Josh talk. Not home.

This airfield was every bit as privately owned, and well taken care of, as the last one. It was almost within city limits, and Max's breath caught as she caught sight of the familiar Seattle skyline once more. And yes, she finally recognized it for the first time. Admitted it. It _was_ home in a way, always would be. The first place she'd truly been attached to. The first place she'd made a place for herself and a stand for herself. So many memories. She'd fallen in love for the first time here. Came to know the man that would eventually be her husband as more than just a soldier, but as a friend and a Second. Made some of the best friends a girl could ask for. So yeah, yeah she could own up to it. Home. Not as much of a home as the island had come to be, but holding a special place in her heart regardless. It was almost unbelievable, almost surreal, the feelings that bubbled up as the plane came in for landing, touching ground in Washington, in a place she never thought she'd see again.

Alec watched the emotions play across her face. And sighed. Seattle.

Yes. He'd fallen in love here. Lost love here. Recognized his self-worth independent of Manticore or illegal antics. Stepped up to help lead Transgenic Nation. Tried to be a friend to Max, when she let him, set them both on the path that would eventually lead to love and to Jaime. But this place? Seriously? It held more heartbreak than happiness. He'd lost Rachel. He'd lost Biggs. He'd been on guard against constant attacks from White, from Max, and even, sometimes, from Logan. This place wasn't home. This place had been a temporary shelter, a place that he couldn't leave, not while he had responsibilities, not while Max was still there, and those nebulous feelings of 'owing her' and something else kept him attached. Seattle.

Welcome home, he told himself, mirthlessly.

Cindy and Josh slipped into a dark unmarked car, already waiting for them. Logan had his own car, one that was most definitely not Bessy, but every bit as unremarkable considering the amount of money the man must have. Guess, apart from those designer slacks, Logan just wasn't the flasy type.

Dalton and Zasz…

"Hey, kid, where you goin'?"

"Home," Dalton replied with a shrug and sunk on to the-

"HEY!" Alec's eyes widened in recognition. "Is that my motorcycle?!"

The seventeen year old ducked his head and he muttered in embarrassment. "You weren't using it…"

Alec circled the Bandit slowly, looked over the new parts and the old paint. "Anything else you appropriated of mine while I was away?" He asked blandly.

"Only the ladies," Zasz grinned, his smile splitting his freckled face as he climbed onto the back of Alec's… make that Dalton's… screw that, it was Alec's… bike.

He loved that bike…

"I'll give it back," Dalton slumped and his voice bordered on the pouty, on the petulant, but it didn't faze Alec much.

"See that you do." If it'd been one of his jackets, that'd be one thing… but his bike? He paused at Dalton's dismayed face, and sighed.

"Thanks for taking care of it," He finally nodded at the teen, in an attempt to soften the blow, and Dalton glanced up in surprise. The teen nodded with the brevity of an adult, and then ruined it by grinning and peeling off.

Max's eyes followed them as the two teens disappeared up the road. "Kind of makes me wonder what happened to my Ninja." She glanced at Jaime, watching the motorcycle roar away in wonder. "Guess those days are done."

"Nah, nuthin' wrong with some weekend joyriding." Alec glanced at her, smiling slightly. "Just don't try and strap my kid to the back, 'kay?"

Max snorted. "Yeah right."

"You guys coming?" Logan called from his car, one foot already in as he leaned against the open driver's door.

Seattle's familiar skyline was disappearing, rapidly growing larger, taking up their full vision, until, finally, they were in the city proper. The windows, rolled tightly, didn't detract from the sounds of the city. All the people. The buildings. Max kept getting distracted by the sense of wonder, the feelings of fear. She kept having to tune back into Logan's talking, sitting next to her in the driver's seat.

"You can stay with me for a few weeks, until-"

"Thanks, Logan," Alec interrupted, from the backseat, and Max was finally forced to pay attention. "But we'd rather get a set-up of our own, as soon as possible."

"We could always stay with Cindy," Max suggested, looking back at her husband.

"Might be a tight fit," Logan said grudgingly, wishing the other woman had been upfront with Max. Wondering why he was the one who'd have to admit, "She's staying in a hotel."

"A hotel?" Max questioned. "But-"

"Sketch wasn't the only one to move to New York," Logan sighed. Cindy so owed him.

Something within Max snapped. Betrayal. Something. She didn't know. Why couldn't they have slowly told her these things over the course of the last two weeks? Why were they throwing all this shit on her now? Anger bloomed in her chest and she opened her mouth and-

"Listen-" Logan started, hoping to forestall her anger.

"Alec's right," Max ground out, ignoring the Cindy situation for now. She'd be giving her 'girl' a talking to later. "Do you really want us underfoot for the time it takes us to get an apartment? We'll just crash at T.C. for awhile, there's bound to be somebody that'll take us in."

Logan stared expressionless at her and glanced away.

Max sighed. "Logan, it's not that we don't appreciate-"

"Max, there is no T.C. Not anymore."

Her mouth went dry. "Wha- What? What are you talking about?" The day just kept getting better and better. Max glanced back at Alec, and he was already looking in her direction, his face bland.

_Is this the part where our brains start melting out our ears?_

She turned back to Logan.

Logan sighed. The car took a sudden right and the next ten minutes were spent in stony edged silence. They left the fancier districts behind, the cleaner districts that housed such things like Fogle Towers, and art museums, and a world that refused to believe in the Pulse. Max's eyes burned into the side of Logan's face. She didn't even realize, as they passed through first one checkpoint, and then another…

She'd traveled these streets before. Clean buildings were giving way to grunge and debris. The impeccably dressed replaced by those barely scraping by. Wealth turned to dirt. Illusion to reality. They were headed into the heart of Seattle.

"See for yourself." Logan finally said into the silence as the car slowed to a halt.

Chainlink fence; toppled. Buildings; burned out shells. Spray paint, _die transgenic scum, _faded colors, no longer bright, aged, in stark relief against charred brick. Silence; haunting, powerful, overwhelming.

T.C. was a ghost town once more, a dead zone within the center of one of the largest metropolitan areas left in the United States.

"What…" Her hand pressed to the glass of the car window in shock. She struggled to control her voice. "What happened? Where is everybody?"

"Gone." Logan replied softly. "There might be a few transhumans left in the deepest parts of T.C…" Logan shrugged. "But they're reclusive even for transhumans… don't talk to anyone, much less me."

"And everyone else?" Alec's voice, deep and thoughtful, startled Logan and he glanced back over the seat at the other man. "Dalton said he was going home. Where, _exactly_, is home?"

"They're gone," Logan repeated firmly… "Most, like Mole, went to ground. Some went to the military. Dalton is probably half way to Gillette, Wyoming by now."

No.

Her mouth went dry.

No. She hadn't fought so that they-

"Long story," Logan sighed and put the car back into gear, began the slow pull away from the ruins of what'd once been the headquarters of a civil rights movement that'd shocked the nation. That Max had once spearheaded with an iron fist and a surprisingly noble heart.

They only got a few blocks when Alec frowned. "Pull over."

Logan glanced back in confusion. "Wha-"

"Just pull over, man." Alec resisted the urge to huff in annoyance, kept his tone as calm as his temper and frayed nerves would allow.

The car rolled to a stop and Alec got out, headed towards a payphone. Max glanced between his back and Jaime for a few moments before Logan sighed and gestured for her to follow him. "I'll watch Jaime," He said gently.

Max frowned. Then nodded, and slipped out of the car, crossing the hard sidewalk, her nose protesting every step of the way. The air conditioning of Logan's vehicle had hid it from her, but the smell of the city in her overdeveloped nose; of humanity, and pollution, and… For a moment, she thought she might wretch. So much for missing the smell...

She controlled the urge to dry-heave and leaned against the booth next to him, watching as he punched in some numbers.

He glanced at her, putting his hand over the mouthpiece for just a moment, "Hey, go wrangle every quarter you can out of Logan. This might take a while." Then he glanced back at the phone, a large, fake smile blooming on his face as he turned away from her. "Mickey, my man! How you doin'? … What do you mean who is this?" He glanced again at Max and shooed her away, turning his back to her.

Alec would make his own way. And that was final.

She sighed, heading back towards the car to talk Logan out of all of his change, but that didn't mean she didn't catch some of Alec's conversation.

"You want me to break your kneecaps, you punk? Don't act like you don't know me just 'cuz of all that money you owe me."

Her head whipped back towards him and he was watching her again, smiling blandly. He shrugged, still speaking into the phone but his eyes didn't leave her. "Yeah, I don't care how long it's been since you've heard from me. A debt is a debt, buddy."

Logan rolled down the car window, leaning over the stick shift to look up at her. "He could just use my cellphone, you know."

Max shrugged, unwilling to admit to Logan that these were the types of calls that the man would probably prefer not to be traced to his phone.

"Got any change?" She asked, instead.

"Break your kneecaps?" She asked blandly when Alec hung up on the dialtone with a huff.

Alec shrugged. "You gotta talk to them in a language they understand, Max." He held out his hand and she deposited some more change in it. He turned back to punch in some more numbers and Max settled in for a long wait. Alec's network of contacts had once rivaled Logan's own, if some of his _had_ been a tad more shady. This might take a while. Alec would probably run out of change before even making it halfway down his mental list.

"So?" She asked, when he hung up on the call that'd eaten the last of the coinage that Logan had supplied them with.

"Half of the contacts I tried were either dead or had changed numbers. More likely they were dead. The other half sounded like they wished _I_ was dead." He pulled away from the payphone, frowning. So much for collecting the money that was owed him. He ignored Max's disapproving stare. Another reason he disliked Seattle. That expression on her face had seemed like a constant in his life, last time he'd been here.

Max glanced back at the car, where Logan was waiting with Jaime. Of the two, Logan looked the most uncomfortable. Jaime seemed to be chatting a mile a minute. From what she remembered of Logan, which was practically everything, kids weren't his strong point. She frowned again, ignoring Alec's put-upon sigh. It's not that she completely disapproved of Alec's extensive contact list; she just didn't want her family put back into that crowd. Although, honestly, she knew Alec didn't either, but at this point, probably felt like he had to to wrangle up some quick cash, proof that this changed world was getting to him and he was starting to get desperate. "So, should we-"

"Max, I am _not _sleeping in the same house as that man."

"Alec-"

"Call me petty or childish or whatever; everything's just too weird. Seeing him in P.J.'s might destroy me." Alec leveled her with The Look. She snorted.

"You'd rather we sleep out on the street?" She asked.

"I'll get us a hotel, okay?" He replied.

"With what money? What credit card?"

"I'll take care of it," He frowned.

"Alec-"

"I said I'd take care of it, Max."

She sighed and stifled the worry that she never had to deal with the last time they were in Seattle, pulling off illegal escapades. They could have asked Logan for the money… but really… they didn't even feel right staying at his residence. They sure as hell weren't going to take his money. But that didn't mean she was going to let Alec sneak into some drug-dealer's hideout to steal them enough cash for a cheap motel.

"I'm sorry, are you forgetting the part where I forbid you from putting yourself at risk of injury?" Max demanded.

"Fine," Alec finally grunted. "But if we're staying at Logan's, I reserve the right to make you scream as loud as I want."

Max blushed scarlet. They'd mastered the art of quiet love-making over the last two-years… but once Alec got something in his head… She had no doubt that he'd make her do just that.

"Fine," She huffed, "What do you suggest, smart guy?"

"Well… there is one more option…" Alec trailed off, glancing away.

Max's eyes widened.

"No way in hell!"

"What'll it hurt to call him, Max?" Alec insisted. "He probably doesn't even live here anymore. Probably got shut down years ago."

"I am not staying with Normal and that is _final_!"

* * *

"I'm so happy you're staying with me," Reagan Ronald's eyes were misty and Alec patted at his back awkwardly. The man's arms squeezed tighter around his torso and Alec glanced overtop his head at Max's cruel smile; like he deserved this or something.

"And you, Missy Miss-" Normal _finally_ straightened and sent Max an annoyed glare. "I'll have you know, I fired you while you were away."

"Was that after I stopped showing up to work so I could lead Transgenic Nation or when everyone thought I was dead?" Max asked blandly.

"Both," Normal shrugged and dismissed her to turn and look at Jaime's wide eyes. Max bristled and Alec nudged her entreatingly… Right before Normal's annoyed voice overrode his brain, and he turned to look at Normal, scowling at Jaime. "Hey… you… small fry. Try not to get your grubby hands on the merchandise, okay?"

Ugh. The man was exactly the same, Max shook her head. From his weaselly little voice, to his republican haircut, to the polyester-blend collared shirt. Jam Pony hadn't changed much either... Badly ventilated, poorly lit, not nearly clean enough... And all the workers were so young... she just didn't remember everyone looking so... _young_... before.

Max scowled and turned to stare at Alec.

"What? He's just jokin'." Alec hoped. And then added, "He secretly loves kids… right Normal?"

Normal looked askance at Jaime. And even though it was an obvious yes, in Alec's mind, Normal grunted doubtfully, "Only if I can make them work for me."

Max smiled slowly, leaning over to Alec and saying de sotto, "I reserve the right to make you scream tonight,"

He watched her in trepidation. "You wouldn't… You couldn't."

"We'll see about that." She smirked, her arms folding under her breasts.

Jeez… Married to her for three years and he hadn't known she was even capable of a smile that evil.

* * *

"What's up?" Logan asked when they showed up at his penthouse, his card, with his address written on the back, grasped tightly in Max's unhappy hand. "I thought-"

Max and Alec wore twin frowns. "Can you watch Jaime for a little bit?" Max interrupted, feeling a wee-bit guilty for dropping the bomb, their kid, on the man that she'd once thought she'd end up with. But, well, desperate times... "We would have left Jaime with Cindy, but we stopped by the hotel you said she was at, and... well. She must have been out."

They shared a glance when Logan didn't move from the door, waiting for further explanation. "We got something to take care of," Alec added with a grunt, refusing to say more. Logan finally sighed and stepped away from the threshhold. Sometimes being the good guy... well...

He watched as Max kissed a dark head of hair, whispering for him to 'be good'. As Alec squeezed the boy's shoulder...

Jaime's lower lip immediately started quibbling as soon as the door shut behind them. Well... this would be... interesting.

"...Hey," Logan tried to distract the kid from his unhappiness. Kids were never his strong point. Jaime just turned to look at him, his strange brown-gold eyes tearing up. Oh no.

"You like chocolate?" Logan asked desperately, hoping to stall the waterworks. Jaime blinked.

"Cookie?" He asked.

Logan couldn't help the small smile. If that's one thing Max had taught him; any kid could be won by sugar.

* * *

Max and Alec came back a few hours later to whisk Jaime away with more than enough money for a hotel room. Logan was smart enough not to ask. And in return, they didn't ask why their son had chocolate smeared across his mouth. Unhappy looks were exchanged all around, though.

"Never again," She frowned at Alec, when their small family was settled into their room.

He shrugged. Never again, what? Never again leave Jaime with Logan or never again rip off a two-bit criminal? Probably both, with a slight lean towards the stealing bit. But they had to make a living somehow. He stashed the rest of the cash in the hotel's wall safe. Besides, he thought to himself, it's not like they'd been spotted. And really, Mickey should be glad he wasn't at home when Max and Alec had stopped by, or his kneecaps might have been in for it.

Alec slipped a few of the bills into his pocket, slamming the safe door closed, and shot Max a glance before leaving the room, on his way to wrangle them up some fastfood or something. Hopefully Jaime's appetite hadn't been _completely_ ruined.

He came back with greasy fries, heavy hamburgers, sugary cola, and a haircut. His hair didn't brush over the tops of his ears anymore, didn't brush against his collar, and Max frowned at the almost military cut, at the barcode that showed when he moved too vigourously; it reminded her of Manticore.

"What?" He demanded, when he'd caught her staring once more, "You feel like a metro man for a while, and you might go for something this short, too."

"I like it," She finally grudgingly admitted, even if it did remind her of the situation with the transgenics. _Military, my ass_, she thought to herself, grabbing for a french fry. Jaime's appetite was ruined as it was, guess it wouldn't hurt to pig out on something unhealthy now.

"Max," Alec shook his head, collapsing next to her one the bed. "I'm thinking that the transgenic situation… Well… it's over our heads, now. We're not going to be able to make a difference-"

"We didn't fight so that they could be used like tools," Max's face twisted.

"Maybe they wanted to go back," Alec played devil's advocate. "Max, to a lot of us, that place was the only place that made sense."

"Don't say that," She shook her head, Ben's haunted eyes flashing through her mind. "Don't ever say that again."

He blinked at her for a long moment, before finally sighing and saying, "You were angry 'cuz everyone expected us to be the same. Don't fall into the same trap that they did. We don't know what went down these last couple of years."

"I don't care," She ground out, in her typical stubbornness. "I'm finding the genius whose bright idea it was to send our people back into service, and I'm kicking his ass."

A knock on the door interrupted Alec's smiled response, and Cindy's voice broke through their conversation. "Max? Logan called me, said you were stayin at the same hotel…"

Max glared evilly at the door.

"Max," Alec grunted. "She's your friend," He reminded. One of her few friends left in Seattle, now.

"Some friend," She sniffed.

"Max," Came Cindy's voice, "I'm _sorry_, I just didn't know how to tell you and-"

The door abruptly opened and Max's steely face met her. Cindy hesitated for only a moment. A moment is all it took for Max's face to crumple a bit. "Everything is so _wrong_," She admitted in an unhappy voice.

Cindy stepped in and hugged her friend, whether she wanted it or not. "I know." She whispered. "I'm sorry." Sorry she hadn't prepared her friend. Life had been hard enough for them, just coming off their island, Cindy hadn't wanted to heap it all on them at once… And by sparing Max on the boat, she'd done just that in Seattle; heaped it all on, 'til they felt like they were bending, falling under the weight of change, close to snapping.

Max finally broke away from the woman, stepping away from the threshold and letting Cindy into the room. "New York, huh?" She made nice.

Cindy shrugged, stepping in and closing the door behind her. "Original Cindy got herself all grown up, with a real job, a cute little pad, and a sweet little chickadee."

"Real job?" Max teased, "Say it ain't so,"

"Girl, not even a saint could work for Reagan Ronald the rest of they lives." O.C. rolled her eyes.

Max settled onto the tan carpet, pulling Jaime into her lap, and Cindy sunk onto the sofa near the hotel door. Alec watched for a moment, as Max grilled Cindy on her new job, her new life, before slipping out the door.

"Why New York?" He heard his wife ask as he closed the door.

"Everywhere I looked," Came Cin's soft reply, "I was reminded of you. It hurt too much. So when Sketch was 'bout to up and leave, I figured-"

The door clicked shut and Alec sighed. They needed time anyway. And it gave him a chance to do what he'd planned, earlier. Get some answers. Finally.

* * *

The knock startled Logan from his quiet musings, and he pushed away from the computer that he couldn't much focus on anyway.

"Alec?" He questioned the ghost of his past, the man's short hair reminding him of years gone by.

The transgenic leaning in the hallway nodded only slightly. "Logan,"

"What's going on?" The older man questioned. "Is Max-"

"Max is watching our son," Alec interrupted, unable to help adding the little dig. Just setting boundaries, he told himself, that's all. "And talking to Cindy," He added after a moment, a bit grudgingly.

"So what's up?" Logan asked slowly, a bit suspiciously. He and Alec had never really been friends. There for a while, Logan knew, he'd been a complete jerk to the younger man. If Alec had just come here to rub his relationship with Max in his face-

"We need to talk," Alec's voice went hard.

And for a moment, Logan realized he'd caught a bit of what Manticore had once seen. 494 could be a scary looking man when he wanted to be.

"Come in," Logan sighed, his baser instincts telling him to lock predators _out_, not invite them _in_.

Alec's eyes moved through the penthouse. Place was even nicer than Fogle had once been. Way nicer than Sandeman's dump. High ceilings, white-washed walls. A bit softer than the Fogle place, not quite so modern. Maybe Logan was getting softer in his old age. Alec resisted the urge to snort.

"So," he made conversation, still looking around. "Welcomed back into the Cale fold, eh?"

"What do you need, Alec?" Logan sighed.

Alec cut the crap and got right to the point. "Who was the genius that sent transgenics back into service?" He asked, voice like steel.

And Logan knew what he was asking.

Were _you_ the genius that sent transgenics back into service.

"Don't look at me like that," Logan shook his head. "I had nothing to do with it. After you two left, after you, quote unquote, _died_, leadership of T.C. was kind of up in the air. Some of the more muscle-bound tried to fight for the position." Logan shook his head. It'd been an uncertain time. He smiled a bit. "But in the end, diplomacy won out."

"And happy transgenic leadership went tooo-" Alec prompted, wanting to know who the next person on his list would be.

"A couple of people, actually," Logan shrugged, crossing the wooden floor of the front hall, making his way into the well-furnished study. He sunk back into the leather computer chair, leaning forward over the glass top desk. He clicked on a file, pulled up some pictures. He leaned back and Alec leaned over the chair. Some of the trannies in the pictures looked vaguely familiar. Some he didn't recognize at all. One was 526, Jake, the transgenic from the island. One of them was Mole, and that didn't surprise him.

"T.C. tried its hand at a council of leaders for a while." Logan supplied. "After your and Max's death, they weren't willing to put all their trust on one person." Alec started to protest, and Logan shrugged. "It wasn't anything personal. Transgenics knew, what with the familiars and the populace gunning for them all, that being a leader was to be in a hazardous position; they could die at any moment. With a council, even if one member were to die, they wouldn't be left completely leaderless."

"Sounds… fairly intelligent," Alec grunted, straightening. "So what happened?"

"Sandeman showed up," Logan frowned, leaning forward once more. Bringing a newspaper article onto the screen.

Transgenic Crisis Resolved, the bold type declared.

"Sandeman just showed up out of nowhere," Logan frowned at the computer screen. "Appparently all those years of secrecy after being kicked out of Manticore? Well, he was still working with the government, some deals overseas, and he came back with an offer. Come back to the fold, fight against the familiars, do what you were made to do, and earn citizenship."

"We don't have to _earn_ citizenship," Alec scowled as Logan swiveled to face him. "We were born-"

"Trust me," Logan frowned, unhappy, "Every argument you could make right now? I already did. But some transgenics, well, they were tired of fighting a world that hated them. Just wanted to go back to what they knew, even if it meant fighting for the people that don't appreciate them. So, the council took a vote, and they were split, almost right down the middle."

"I take it Mole didn't want to go back the government's loving, open arms," Alec said blandly.

Logan nodded, smiling slightly. The abrasive transhuman had sided with Logan for once and he'd put it in no uncertain terms what he thought of Sandeman's deal.

"_This is a load of horse shit," Mole had pulled out his cigar, to spit at Sandeman's feet. _

Logan shook his head, pulling himself from the memory, and his mouth twisted. It made the slight scar above his lip stand out in relief, white and jagged, catching Alec's eye. Logan pretended like he didn't see Alec look at the mark, and pressed on.

"So, since the Council couldn't decide, they let transgenics decide for themselves. Stay or go. Mole's faction, most transgenics, actually, really _were_ inspired by Max. Really did think they had a right to their own life... So they went to ground. A little under half went back to the government facilities, but it was enough that people felt safe once again and all the mania just kind of… faded out."

"I don't get it," Alec straightened, frowning at the computer screen. "Why would they go back? How could they think it'd be worth it-"

"Remember T.C.?" Logan questioned. "All the burnt out buildings? We don't know how the fire started. Just that it did. And it was the icing on the cake for some transgenics; their home, destroyed. Either way, everyone was going to have to leave T.C., why not go to a place where they'd be the ones doing the attacking?"

"For someone who doesn't agree with their decision," Alec pointed out, "You sure got all the answers,"

"It's a fairly human sentiment," Logan shrugged. "The evil I know-"

"Is better than the evil I don't," Alec sighed. Logan started in surprise. "What? I'm not a retard, Logan, I do know some common sayings." Alec shook his head in dark amusement.

Logan turned back to the screen.

"And then-" Alec prompted, sighing, watching the man move his mouse absently, knowing there was more. The way his day was going, there was always more.

"And then the familiar war started. When it seemed like White was going to win, his faction got a little ahead of themselves, tried to start the Coming early, before the big astronomical event that was supposed to herald it. They started taking out humans, and any transgenic they could find, the old fashioned way. With violence."

"And suddenly, transgenics, tools of the military, don't look so bad in the eyes of American Joe." Alec mused. He paused a moment, before asking, "You still keep in contact with Sandeman?"

"Yeah," Logan shrugged. "To be honest, I don't much like the guy. He's a little too apocalyptic gloom and doom for me, but I can get a hold of him if I want."

"Can you?" Alec asked, "I have a feeling that Max is going to want to talk to him… Or at the very least, she's going to want to talk to his kneecaps."

"Yeah," Logan blinked. "I'll see what I can do."

"Thanks," Alec nodded. He was turning to leave before he paused. "Hey, if you don't mind me asking… How'd you know where to find us?"

Logan frowned. "Made a deal with the devil, right before he died," Logan shook his head, asking Alec to leave it at that.

Alec's mouth twisted, and he forced himself not to ask the question that Logan wanted to avoid. Instead, "How'd you even know we were alive?"

"I didn't," Logan replied, soft and dignified. "I hoped." Then he laughed a bit. "Plus, hang out with Sandeman long enough, and maybe you'll start believing in destiny, too."

Alec snorted. "I don't believe in destiny, I make my own way."

Logan's mouth twitched. "Funny. That was one of White's recruiting slogans,"

Alec smiled back, just for amoment. Before pausing, and finally letting curiousity get the better of him, he asked, "One more thing?"

Logan sighed.

"How'd you get the scar?" Alec's head cocked to the side, his eyes glancing over the mark on the right side of the man's lip, marring his lip, curving towards his cheek, slight and faded.

"Got hit by a brick," Logan said blandly, and Alec wondered if he should believe him. "Anything else?"

Alec shifted from foot to foot. Wondering if he should apologize to the man for becoming the husband to the woman that he loved. "No," He finally said, and turned.

"Alec," Logan's voice stopped him. "I think I'm allowed one question, too."

Here it comes.

He didn't turn. Just stayed in the archway of the study, his back tense. "Yeah?"

"How'd… I mean…" Logan sighed. "Why you? Why _you?_" Logan's voice was soft, tired, and almost broken. Alec had never heard the man sound so… _human_… before.

He paused, to actually put real thought into the question. He owed Logan that much. His face was drawn as he dredged the answer from his brain.

"You once told me," He mused softly, turning and catching Logan's gaze. "That it didn't matter to you where she came from, or who she was." He paused, and shook his head, almost sadly. "It should have mattered, Logan. Above all else, those are the two things that should have mattered the most."

Alec looked across at the older man. And for a moment genuinely felt bad for the guy. He sighed, unsure if he should say any more. In the end, it was easier to just walk away and let the door close gently behind him.

It didn't answer Logan's question, at least not in the way Alec thought Logan wanted the question answered. But it was the only one that made sense to him, even if Logan Cale never saw it. Alec understood Max on a level that the Ordinary just could not grasp.

Plus, hey, alone on an island. That helped.

* * *

He slipped back into the hotel room close to dusk, and Max smiled up at him from her spot on the tan couch. Jaime was in her lap, and her hand ran through her son's fine, dark hair. "Hey you," She smiled, over the noise of cartoons, more than a greeting in her simple words.

He smiled back at the girl who was anything but. "Hey, back." And softness swelled. Maybe Seattle did suck the big one. But at least they were here together.

"Where you been?" She questioned.

"Trying to get answers," Alec sighed.

"Get any?" Max asked softly, resisting the urge to jokingly ask if Logan was in one peice. She didn't know if Alec was in the right frame of mind to take it as the joke it was meant to be. Score one for Max, actually keeping her mouth shut, she thought to herself, almost wryly.

"A few answers. And they all caused more questions," Alec laughed ruefully, leaning back into the door, his head hitting the thick wood gently. He pushed away after a moment and crossed to her, sliding to the ground by her feet, his back against the couch. "Logan's going to contact Sandeman."

"Good," Max nodded, all military commandership, and Alec resisted the urge to snort. Why was it so easy to fall back into that mentality?

"From what Logan says," Alec grunted, eyes flicking over the boob tube, "Don't be surprised if you don't like the guy."

Max's mouth twisted. "Trust me. I'm already pretty prepared for that," Anyone who could create Manticore, create a new race, all for the sole purpose of stopping the Apocalypse, was obviously, while not a sociopath, a little morally skewed. A little narrow-minded for the sake of destiny and humanity.

Alec turned, looking over his shoulder, and sighed at Max's narrow-eyed look. He didn't want it. But he too, felt the familiar call to take charge growing within him. He couldn't… couldn't let transgenics…

Alec sighed again, his head resting against her knees. What a load of shit. All his talk about not letting Max get back into the game, and he was already half-way in.

Max smiled at the back of his head. "Hard, isn't it? To let go,"

"Yeah, yeah," He muttered. "Don't rub it in." He twisted and looked up at her. Looked at Jaime.

"It's not fair to him to get into this mess," Alec finally said. Jaime was oblivious, watching the bright colors play across the television set.

"We're not planning on taking up the reins of Transgenic Nation," Max rolled her eyes. "All we're doin' is finding out what's changed in our absence."

"Then why do I feel like a puppet?" Alec asked, "Tugged along by fate, or destiny, or some weird whatever, back towards some kind of inevitable leadership. Sometimes it feels like even getting stuck on that island was destiny or something."

"I don't believe in destiny," Max shrugged, making a face. "I make my own way."

"Famous last words," Alec snorted.

"So," Max finally asked, relaxing slightly, her hand dropping from her son's silky hair and into her husbands, glanced down across his neck, across the mark that she refused to associate as a claim of government ownership. "What are we goin' to do? We have enough money for a few nights here. But what about jobs? And meeting Sandeman-"

"And going to Wyoming." Alec interjected.

"What?! We are _not_-"

"I'm not saying we're joining the ranks of the mindless, Max," Alec shook his head. "I'm saying, I want to get a look at that place. I figured it'd still be a burned out shell, not home to Manticore 2.0."

"No way," She scowled, shifting Jaime in her lap. "I am not letting you get anywhere _near_ that place."

"If you get to talk to a man that coded you to be the savior of the world, I don't see why I can't try and talk some sense into the idiots that sold themselves out," Alec argued.

She pinched the back of his neck. He scowled.

"Admit it," He said knowingly. "You want to chew them out just as much as I do,"

"Yeah, duh," Max rolled her eyes. "But it's not like they're gonna let us waltz right onto a military installation and take a poll, 'hey, how stupid are you _really_?'"

Alec grinned.

"No, Alec." Max shook her head, her arms coming up around her son, almost protectively. "No, and that's final. There's not a damn thing you can do to convince me otherwise."

Alec's grin slipped and his eyes darted to his son. "Yeah," He finally grunted. "Yeah, you're right. Guess we have to just play it by ear for now."

"Good," Max smiled, confidant in her victory.

"So," Alec finally asked, pushing himself up onto the couch, leaning into the side. "Feel like your brains are going to leak out your ears, yet?"

She shook her head, "Alec, honey... they already did that about six hours ago." And she grinned.

"Well, let me help you stuff them back in." He grinned back, and pounced.

"Alec!" She shrieked, "Get off of me!"

Jaime squirmed around his Dad's arm, trying to keep his eyes on the screen. Just like his father. No help at all, Max snorted, not when there was a TV around.

Breathless, she finally shoved him away, and he grinned, leaning back into the couch, his arm settling around her shoulders. She leaned into him.

"My kid's turning into a vegetable," She grumped. "What happened to playing and exploring and all the cute little antics?"

"Ahh, the draws of modern society," Alec shook his head ruefully. "Welcome home, baby."


End file.
